Dark Force Rising
by Grubkiller19
Summary: The Death Star is destroyed. The Emperor is dead. The Empire is fractured. Luke Skywalker works to rebuild the Jedi Order and protect the fledgling New Republic. But he will find that it will be a challenging task, especially when the Imperial factions begin to unite and launch bold attacks under the direction of a mysterious, Dark Lord from the Unknown Regions.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Folks, Grubkiller here.**

**Ever since Disney took control of Star Wars, and proceeded to run the franchise into the ground, I couldn't help but return to the old comics, novels, and video games. It was then that I thought, '****_why weren't the Thrawn/Dark Empire stories made into a sequel trilogy?_****'**

**So, I decided to make my most ambitious story yet: a combination of the Thrawn/Dark Empire stories, with some of the 'better/decent' (And I can't stress those two words enough) elements from the Disney trilogy, but with Legends characters that many of you know and love, and I hope that I write them properly. **

**Also, our old heroes aren't going to be old, pathetic losers like they were portrayed to be in the Disney Trilogy. And Female characters will not be total Mary Sues.**

**So, without further delay, let's begin what should have been a worthy sequel to George Lucas' 6 incredible masterpieces (And Yes, I include the Prequels, because they were great films: change my mind).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, nor can I ever hope to match the talent of some of its best writers, and I do not own their superb works of Science-Fiction. I'm just writing for fun, and because I'm somewhat disgruntled.**

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**Devastator of Worlds-Chapter 1**

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_It's been five years since the Battle of Endor, where the Rebel Alliance destroyed the 2nd Death Star, and defeated Darth Vader and the Emperor. The New reformed Republic has taken the Core, and driven the fractured Imperial Starfleet into the Outer Rim._

_Luke Skywalker has become the first Jedi Knight in the New Jedi Order, and seeks to rebuild the Jedi Order. Han Solo and Princess Leia have given birth to force-sensitive twins, hoping to one day let them train under Luke tutelage._

_But the galaxy is still in turmoil, as the fledgling New Republic struggles to maintain order in this new galaxy. And meanwhile, deep within the Unknown regions, a new threat is brewing, and the Empire's best tactician returns to take command of the Empire's scattered Fleet._

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_ISD Chimaera, in the neutral zone between New Republic and Imperial Space_.

"Captain Pellaeon?" a voice called down the portside crew pit through the hum of background conversation. "Message from the sentry line: the scoutships have just come out of lightspeed."

Pellaeon, leaning over the shoulder of the man at the _Chimaera_'s bridge engineering monitor, ignored the shout. "Trace this line for me," he ordered, tapping a light pen at the schematic on the display.

The engineer threw a questioning glance up at him. "Sir . . . ?"

"I heard him," Pellaeon said. "You have an order, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," the engineering officer said carefully, and keyed for the trace.

"Captain Pellaeon?" the voice repeated, closer this time. Keeping his eyes on the engineering display, Pellaeon waited until he could hear the sound of the approaching footsteps. Then with all the regal weight that fifty years spent in the Galactic Republic and Imperial Fleets gave to a man, he straightened up and turned.

The young duty officer's brisk walk faltered; came to an abrupt halt. "Uh, sir-" He looked into Pellaeon's eyes and his voice faded away.

Pellaeon let the silence hang in the air for a handful of heartbeats, long enough for those nearest to notice. "This is not a cattle market in Shaum Hii, Lieutenant Tschel," he said at last, keeping his voice calm but icy cold. "This is the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Routine information is not - repeat, _not_ \- simply shouted in the general direction of its intended recipient. Is that clear?"

Tschel swallowed. "Yes, sir."

Pellaeon held his eyes a few seconds longer, then lowered his head in a slight nod. "Now. Report."

"Yes, sir." Tschel swallowed again. We've just received word from the sentry ship, sir: the scouts have returned from their scan raid on the Obroa-skai system."

"Very good," Pellaeon nodded. "Did they have any trouble?""Only a little, sir - the natives apparently took exception to them pulling a dump of their central library system. The wing commander said there was some attempt at pursuit, but that he lost them."

"I hope so," Pellaeon said grimly. Orb-skai held a strategic position in the borderland regions, and intelligence reports indicated that the New Republic was making a strong bid for its membership and support. If they'd had armed emissary ships there at the time of the raid. . . .

Well, he'd know soon enough. "Have the wing commander report to the bridge ready room with his report as soon as the ships are aboard," he told Tschel. "And have the sentry line go to yellow alert. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Spinning around with a reasonably good imitation of a proper military turn, the lieutenant headed back toward the communications console.

The _young_ lieutenant . . . which was, Pellaeon thought with a trace of old bitterness, where the problem really lay. In the old days - at the height of the Empire's power - it would have been inconceivable for a man as young as Tschel to serve as a bridge officer aboard a ship like the _Chimaera_.

Now -

He looked down at the equally young man at the engineering monitor. Now, in contrast, the Chimaera had virtually no one aboard except young men and women.

Slowly, Pellaeon let his eyes sweep across the bridge, feeling the echoes of old anger and hatred twist through his stomach. There had been many commanders in the Fleet, he knew, who had seen the Emperor's original Death Star as a blatant attempt to bring the Empire's vast military power more tightly under his direct control, just as he'd already done with the Empire's political power. The fact that he'd ignored the battle station's proven vulnerability and gone ahead with a second Death Star had merely reinforced that suspicion. There would have been few in the Fleet's upper echelons who would have genuinely mourned its loss . . . if it hadn't, in its death throes, taken the Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ with it.

Even after five years Pellaeon couldn't help but wince at the memory of that image: the Executor, out of control, colliding with the unfinished Death Star and then disintegrating completely in the battle station's massive explosions. The loss of the ship itself had been bad enough; but the fact that it was the Executor had made it far worse, because it was Darth Vader's personal ship, and despite the Dark Lord's legendary - and often lethal - administration, serving aboard it had long been perceived as the quick lone to promotion.

Which meant that when the SSD went down, so also did a disproportionate fraction of the best young and midlevel officers and crewmen.

The Fleet had never recovered from that fiasco. With the Executor's leadership gone, the battle had quickly turned into a confused rout, with several other Star Destroyers being lost before the order to withdraw had finally been given, with Pellaeon himself taking command when everyone above him was killed, including the Chimaera's original CO. And despite his best efforts to hold the fleet together, they had never regained the initiative against the Rebels.

Instead, the Empire fell apart into a state of warlordism and civil war. Trade collapsed, the economy tanked, and the Starfleet was always low on supplies as a result, and they had been steadily pushed back as a result. The Core systems were abandoned, including Imperial Center, and now they were here, in what had always been considered the backwater of the Empire, with barely a quarter of its former systems still under nominal Imperial control, having signed a humiliating peace treaty with the "New Republic." Here, aboard a Star Destroyer manned almost entirely by painstakingly trained but badly inexperienced young people, many of them conscripted from their home worlds, by threat of force in many cases.

Here, under the command of possibly the greatest military mind the Empire had ever seen.

Pellaeon smiled - a tight, wolfish smile - as he again looked around his bridge. No, the end of the Empire was not yet. As the arrogantly self-proclaimed New Republic would soon discover.

He glanced at his watch. Grand Admiral Thrawn would be meditation in his command room now . . . and if the Imperial procedure frowned on shouting cross the bridge, it frowned even harder on interrupting a Grand Admiral's meditation by intercom. One spoke to him in person, or one did not speak to him at all. "Continue tracing those lines," Pellaeon ordered the engineering lieutenant as he headed for the door. "I'll be back shortly."

The Grand Admiral's new command room was two levels below the bridge, in a space that had once housed the former commander's luxury entertainment suite. When Thrawn took command, one of his first acts had been to take over the suite and convert it into what was essentially a secondary bridge.

A secondary bridge, meditation room . . . and perhaps more. It was no secret aboard the Chimaera that since the recent refitting had been completed the Grand Admiral had been spending a great deal of is time here. What was secret was what exactly he did during those long hours.

Stepping to the door, Pellaeon straightened his tunic and braced himself. Perhaps he was about to find out. "Captain Pellaeon to see Grand Admiral Thrawn," he announced. "I have informa-"

The door slid open before he finished speaking. Mentally preparing himself, Pellaeon stepped into the dimly lit entry room. He glanced around, saw nothing of interest, and started for the door to the main chamber. He saw several pieces of art, and relics from ancient history.

Paintings, wall carvings, ancient relics and trinkets, including a modest-looking, worn, and very battered clay chalice.

He continued down the dark corridor, and a touch of air on the back of his neck was his only warning. "Captain Pellaeon," a deep, gravelly, catlike voice mewed into his ear.

Pellaeon jumped and spun around, cursing both himself and the short, wiry creature standing less than half a meter away. "Blast it, Rukh," he snarled. "What do you think you're doing?"

For a long moment Rukh just looked up at him, and Pellaeon felt a drop of sweat trickle down his back. With his large dark eyes, protruding jaw, and glistening needle teeth, Rukh was even more of a nightmare in the dimness than he was in normal lighting.

Especially to someone like Pellaeon, who knew what Thrawn used Rukh and his fellow Noghri for.

"I'm doing my job," Rukh said at last. He stretched his thin arm almost casually out toward the inner door, and Pellaeon caught just a glimpse of the slender assassin's knife before it vanished somehow into the Noghri's sleeve. His hand closed, then opened again, steel-wire muscles moving visibly beneath his dark gray skin. "You may enter."

"Thank you," Pellaeon growled. Straightening his tunic again, he urned back to the door. It opened at his approach, and he stepped through . . . into a softly lit art museum.

He stopped short, just inside the room, and looked around in astonishment. The walls and domed ceiling were covered with flat paintings and planics, a few of them vaguely human-looking but most of distinctly alien origin. Various sculptures were scattered around, some freestanding, others on pedestals. In the center of the room was a double circle of repeater displays, the outer ring slightly higher than the inner ring. Both sets of displays, at least from what little Pellaeon could see, also seemed to be devoted to pictures of artwork.

And in the center of the double circle, seated in a duplicate of the Admiral's Chair on the bridge, was Grand Admiral Thrawn.

He sat motionlessly, his shimmery blue-black hair glinting in the dim light, his pale blue skin looking cool and subdued and very alien on his otherwise human frame. His eyes were nearly closed as he leaned back against the headrest, only a glint of red showing between the lids. he wore the all-white officer's uniform worn by Grand Admirals.

But what was unique about Thrawn, other than being the last one, was the insignia on his shoulder. Instead of the Imperial insignia, was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon. The insignia of the First Order - a mysterious Imperial faction that operated out in the unknown regions, where Thrawn came from before taking command here.

Pellaeon licked his lips, suddenly unsure of the wisdom of having invaded Thrawn's sanctum like this. If the Grand Admiral decided to be annoyed. . . .

"Come in, Captain," Thrawn said, his quietly modulated voice cutting through Pellaeon's thoughts. Eyes still closed through slits, he waved a hand in a small and precisely measured motion. "What do you think?"

"It's . . . very interesting, sir," was all Pellaeon could come up with as he walked over to the outer display circle.

"All holographic, or course," Thrawn said, and Pellaeon thought he could hear a note of regret in his voice. "The sculptures and flats both. Some of them are lost; many of the others are on planets now occupied by the Rebellion."

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon nodded. "I thought you'd want to know, Admiral, that the scouts have returned from the Obroa-skai system. The wing commander will be ready for debriefing in a few minutes."

Thrawn nodded. "were they able to tap into the central library system?"

"They got at least a partial dump," Pellaeon told him. "I don't know yet if they were able to complete it - apparently, there was some attempt at pursuit. The wing commander thinks he lost them, though."

For a moment Thrawn was silent. "No," he said. "No, I don't believe he has. Particularly not if the pursuers were from the Rebellion." Taking a deep breath, he straightened in his chair and, for the first time since Pellaeon had entered, opened his glowing red eyes.

Pellaeon met his gaze without flinching, feeling a small flicker of pride at the achievement. Many of the Emperor's top commanders and courtiers had never learned to feel comfortable with those eyes. Or with Thrawn himself, for that matter. Which was probably why the Grand Admiral had spent so much of his career out in the Unknown regions, working to map out those uncharted sectors and helping the First Order to bring those still-barbaric sections of the galaxy under heel. His brilliant successes had won him the right to wear the white uniform of Grand Admiral - the only non-human ever granted that honor by the Emperor.

Ironically, it had also made him all the more indispensable to the frontier campaigns. Pellaeon had often wondered how the Battle of Endor would have ended if Thrawn, instead of Vader and Piett. "Yes, sir," he said. "I've ordered the sentry line onto yellow alert. Shall we go to red?"

"Not yet," Thrawn said. "We should still have a few minutes. Tell me, Captain, do you know anything about art?"

"Ah . . . not very much," Pellaeon managed, thrown a little by the sudden change of subject. "I've never really had much time to devote to it."

"You should make the time." Thrawn gestured to a part of the inner display circle to his right. "Saffa paintings," he identified them. "Circa 1550 to 2200, Pre-Empire Date. Note how the style changes - right here - at the first contact with the Thennqora. Over there-" he pointed to the left-hand wall, "-are examples of Paonidd extras art. Note the similarities with the early Saffa work, and also the mid-eighteenth century Pre-Em Vaathkree flatscuplt."

"Yes, I see," Pellaeon said, not entirely truthfully. "Admiral, shouldn't we be-?"

He broke off as a shrill whistle split the air.

"_Bridge to Grand Admiral Thawn,_" Lieutenant Tschel's taut voice called over the intercom. "_Sir, we're under attack!_"

Thrawn tapped the intercom switch. This is Thrawn," he said evenly. "Go to red alert, and tell me what we've got. Calmly, if possible."

"_Yes, sir._" The muted alert lights began flashing, and Pellaeon could hear the sound of the klaxons baying faintly outside the room. "_Sensors are picking up four New Republic Assault Frigates,_" Tschel continued, his voice tense but under noticeably better control. "_Plus at least three wings of X-wing fighters. Symmetric cloud-eve formation, coming in on our scoutships' vector._"

Pellaeon swore under his breath. A single Star Destroyer, with a largely inexperienced crew, against four Assault Frigates and their accompanying fighters . . . "Run engines to full power," he called toward the intercom. "Prepare to make the jump to light speed." He took a step toward the door-

"Belay that jump order, Lieutenant," Thrawn said, still glacially calm. "TIE fighter crews to their stations; activate deflector shields."

Pellaeon spun back to him. "Admiral-"

Thrawn cut him off with an upraised hand. "come here, Captain," the Grand Admiral ordered. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

He touched a switch; and abruptly, the art show was gone. Instead, the room had become a miniature bridge monitor, with helm, engine, and weapons readouts on the walls and double display circle. The open space had become a holographic tactical display; in one corner a flashing red sphere with four rectangles and a couple dozen tiny dots indicated the invaders, while the blue triangle and small dots indicated the location of the _Chimaera_, and its sentries. The wall display nearest to it gave an ETA estimate of twelve minutes.

"Fortunately, the scoutships have enough of a lead not to be in danger themselves," Thrawn commented. "So. Let's see what exactly we're dealing with. Bridge: order the three nearest sentry ships to attack."

"_Yes, sir_."

Across the room, three blue dots shifted out of the sentry line into intercept vectors. From the corner of his eye Pellaeon saw Thrawn lean forward in his seat as the Assault Frigates and accompanying X-wings shifted in response. One of the blue dots winked out-

"Excellent," Thrawn said, leaning back in his seat. "That will do, Lieutenant. Pull the other two sentry ships back, and order the Sector Four line to scramble out of the invader' vector."

"_Yes, sir,_" Tschel said, sounding more than a little confused.

A confusion Pallaeon could well understand. "Shouldn't we at least signal the rest of the Fleet?" He suggested, hearing the tightness in his voice. "The _Death's Head_ could be here in twenty minutes, most of the others in less than an hour."

"The last thing we want to do right now is bring in more of our ships, Captain," Thrawn said. He looked up at Pellaeon, and a faint smile touched his lips. "After all, there _may_ be survivors, and we wouldn't want the Rebellion learning about us. Would we."

He turned back to his displays. "Bridge: I want a twenty-degree port yaw rotation - bring us flat to the invaders' vector, superstructure pointing at them. As soon as they're within the outer perimeter, the Sector Four sentry line is to re-form behind them and jam all transmission."

"_Y-yes, sir. Sir-?_"

"You don't have to understand, Lieutenant," Thrawn said, his voice abruptly cold. "Just obey."

"Yes, sir."

Pellaeon took a careful breath as the displays showed the _Chimaera_ rotating as per orders. I'm afraid I don't understand either, Admiral," he said. "Turning our superstructure toward them-"

Again, Thrawn stopped him with an upraised hand. "Watch and learn, Captain. That's fine, bridge: stop rotation and hold position here. Drop docking bay deflector shields, boost power to all others. TIE fighter squadrons: launch when ready. Head directly away from the _Chimaera_ for two kilometers, then sweep around in open cluster formation. Backfire speed, zonal attack pattern."

He got an acknowledgment, then looked up at Pellaeon. "Do you understand now, Captain?"

Pellaeon pursed his lips. "I'm afraid not," he admitted. "I see now that the reason you turned the ship was to give the fighters some exit cover, but the rest is nothing more but a classic Marg Sabl closure maneuver. There's no way they'd fall for that."

The Marg Sabl maneuver was a tactic first used in the Clone Wars, in the Battle of Ryloth. It was developed by Jedi Padawaw Ahsoka Tano. According to Tano's master, Anakin Skywalker and Senator Amidala, both of whom Thrawn met when he was just an undercover Lieutenant, the Marg Sabl was named for a Togrutan flower that grew on Shili.

"On the contrary," Thrawn corrected coolly. "Not only will they fall for it, they'll be utterly destroyed by it. Watch, Captain. And learn."

The TIE fighters launched, accelerating away from the _Chimaera_ and then leaning hard into etheric rudders to sweep back around it like the spray of some exotic fountain. The invading ships spotted the attackers and shifted vectors. They all split apart in a very disorganized manner and tried to retreat and reform into a defensive column.

Pellaeon blinked. "What in the Nine Corellian hells are they _doing_?"

"They're trying the only defense they know of against this maneuver," Thrawn said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. "Or, to be more precise, the only defense they are psychologically capable of attempting." He nodded toward the flashing sphere. "You see, Captain, there's an Elomin commanding that force . . . and Elomin simply cannot handle the unstructured attack profile of a properly executed Marg Sabl."

Pellaeon stared at the invaders, still shifting into their utterly useless defense stance . . . and slowly it dawned on him what Thrawn had just done. "That sentry ship attack a few minutes ago," he said. "You were able to tell from _that_ that those were Elomin ships?"

"Learn about art, Captain," Thrawn said, his voice almost dreamy. "When you understand a species' art, you understand that species."

He straightened in his chair. "Bridge: bring us to flank speed. Prepare to join the attack."

The Chimaera came about and headed straight for the damaged, and disorganized Rebel frigates, and cut loose with a barrage of green turbo laser fire. Their shots ran straight and true, spearing through the rebel ships.

A few minutes later, the rebel ships were burning from stem to stern, and began to spin out of control. One frigate crashed into another, creating a fireball that erupted more brightly than the stars, if only for the briefest of moments.

In just under an hour, the Empire won against an enemy that had it outnumbered and outgunned.

* * *

The ready room door slid shut behind the ing commander, and Pellaeon gazed back at the map still on the display. "Sounds like Obroa-skai is a dead end," he said regretfully. "There's no way we'll be able to spare the manpower that much pacification would cost."

"For now, perhaps," Thrawn agreed. "But only for now."

Pellaeon frowned across the table at him. Thrawn was fiddling with a data card, rubbing it absently between his finger and thumb, as he stared out the viewport at the stars, and possibly the debris field from the destroyed rebel ships. A strange smile played about his lips.

"Admiral?" He asked carefully.

Thrawn turned his head, those glowing eyes coming to rest on Pellaeon. "It's the second piece of the puzzle, Captain," he said softly, holding up the data card. "The piece I've been searching for now for over a year."

Abruptly, he turned to the intercom, jabbed it on. "Bridge, this is Grand Admiral Thrawn. Signal the Death's Head; tell Captain Harbid to head for the planet Mrykr, and begin collecting the specimens I asked for, and that he is to continue making tactical surveys of the local systems and pulling data dumps wherever possible. And then inform him that we'll be temporarily leaving the fleet, and then set course for a planet called Wayland - the nav computer has its location."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant said.

"And one more, very important thing: Send an encrypted massage to all Imperial forces, and tell them that it is time to make use of the World Devastators. The next phase of Operation Cinder is to begin at once."

The bridge acknowledged, and Thrawn turned back to Pellaeon. "You seem lost, Captain," he suggested. "I take it you've never been to Wayland?"

Pellaeon shook his head, trying without success to rad the Grand Admiral's expression. "Should I have?"

"Probably not. The planet's location is classified, even before the Rebels took Coruscant."

He paused, taking a measured sip from the mug at his elbow - a strong Forvish ale, from the semll of it - and Pellaeon forced himself to remain silent. Whatever the Grand Admiral was going to tell him, he was obviously going to tell it in his own way and time. "Just before I came here from the unknown regions, I was introduced to one of our late Emperor's messenger sentinels, telling me to go to Wayland, and giving me access to this data card that I'm holding." Thrawn said, holding up the card that he was fiddling with earlier. "Apparently, it's home to one of the Emperor's observatories, and another secret facility beneath the mountains. But I don't know what it could be."

Pellaeon looked at the card his superior was holding. "And that explanation will become the first piece of this puzzle of yours?"

Thrawn smiled. "Not mine, Captain, but that of our late Emperor."

"I congratulate you on this high honor from the Emperor," Pellaeon said, suddenly tired of this game. "May I ask just what exactly this great puzzle is, and what it has to do with Operation Cinder?

Thrawn smiled - a smile that sent a shiver up Pellaeon's back.

"Why, the only puzzle worth solving, of course," the Grand Admiral said softly. "The retaking of this galaxy, and the total, and utter destruction of the Rebellion."

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**Well folks, that was chapter 1, inspired from the _Heir to the Empire_ novel by Timothy Zahn, and with some of Disney's canon details thrown in, because I'm a fair guy. **

**I hope that you all enjoyed. **

**I'll be working on chapter 2, and have it published as soon as possible.**

**Until next time, as always, this is Grubkiller, over and out. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Have no fear, Grubkiller is here.**

**Hey guys, this is part two of this story.**

**Please enjoy.**

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_Hydian Borderlands Region, Neutral space_.

On the edge of the galaxy's spiral arms, just rim-ward of the Tion Cluster, a flight of New Republic X-wings were on a routine patrol of neutral space, on the lookout for any Imperial trespassers.

For the most part, the ceasefire between the Empire and the New Republic held. But once in a while a renegade warlord will illegally cross the border and attack a New Republic outpost.

But recently, with the loss of an entire task force, New Republic security was cranked up to eleven. If the Empire was planning something big, then the Republic military had to be ready for it.

To the veteran pilots of Rogue Squadron, war was hell. But what they were doing now was just boring as hell.

"I don't want to complain," Derek 'Hobbie' Klivian started, "But-"

"-_You will anyway_," Wes Janson finished over the intercom.

Hobbie rolled his eyes in response to his smart aleck wingman. "Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, what are we looking for out here in neutral space?"

"We've been getting reports of deep-space raids for the last two months, mostly on civilian shipping. We thought it was pirate raids, but survivors report that they were TIE fighters that attacked. And they didn't have a mother-ship to report to." Wedge Antilles responded.

"But, how can that be if they're short range fighters?" Hobbie asked.

"We don't know for sure, that's why it's called recon." Wes said.

"Oh yes, I'm well aware of the ramifications: The Brass and the politicians get scared over nothing, and they cut our shore leave to go on boring recon missions." Hobbie said.

"The gospel according to Hobbie," Wes joked.

"Alright, cut the chatter." Wedge ordered. "Look guys, I don't like having shore leave cut either. But we've got a job to do. We don't know what's been going on, but we lost a whole task force recently and we don't even know why, or how. So let's stay focused and get on with doing our jobs."

The three pilots continued flying around for about twenty minutes, scanning every grid of this sector to see if they can spot anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, their scanners started beeping rapidly.

"I've got something on long-range scanners." Wes said. "It looks like we've got twenty fighter-sized contacts, heading our way."

"_Alright, Wes, Hobbie, form up on me, and lock S-foils to attack position._" Wedge ordered before he switched his comlink to the other sub-groups of the squadron. "_Rogue Squadron, rally on us. We've got multiple contacts heading our way, and we're going to give them a warm welcoming._"

* * *

Group Captain Klick led his squadron of TIE intercepters into the edge of the neutral space on a mission to the Mon Cala system. The clone pilot and veteran of the Clone Wars actually fought there under the command of Generals Kit Fisto and Anakin Skywalker, back when the Jedi were the leaders of the Republic armies, before the Empire.

But since those old days, things had changed, and now he was coming back in order to bring it back under the Empire's control, once and for all.

The Mon Calamari, and their Quarren neighbors have been helping the rebels by supplying them with capital ships to feed their ever-growing navy, so destroying them would have to happen if the Empire was to ever truly destroy the rebels. The planet was actually scheduled to be destroyed by the 2nd Death Star once it was completed.

But with the Death Star gone, the Empire would have to use more conventional means.

They were just on their way to the system on their scouting mission, when they were intercepted - quite unexpectedly - by the crack pilots of Rogue Squadron.

* * *

It was approximately the moment that R4-G7 squalled a proximity alarm though his X-wing's sensor panel and his HUD lit up with image codes for twenty TIE Interceptors on his tail that Lieutenant Derek 'Hobbie' Klivian, late of the Rebel Alliance, currently of the New Republic, began to suspect that Commander Antilles's brilliant plan to intercept them had never been brilliant at all.

Not even a little, and he said so. In no uncertain terms. Stripped of its blistering profanity, his comment was, "Wedge? This was a stupid idea. You hear me? Stupid, stupid, stu- _YOW_-!

His exclamation was a product of multiple cannon hits that disintegrated his right dorsal cannon and most of the extended wing it had been attached to. This kicked his fighter into a tumble that he fought with both hands to yoke and both feet kicking attitude jets and almost had under control the pair of the TIE interceptors closest on his tail blossomed into expanding spheres of flame and debris fragments. The twin shock fronts overtook him at exactly the wrong instant and sent him flipping end-over-end straight at another Interceptor formation streaking toward him head-on. Then tail-on, then head-on again, and so forth.

His ship's comlink crackled as Wedge Antilles's fighter flashed past him close enough that he could see the grin on his face. "_That's 'stupid idea, _sir_', to you Lieutenant_."

"I suppose you think that's funny."

"_Well, if he doesn't_," put in Wes Janson, Hobbie's wingman, "_I sure do._"

"When I want _your_ opinion, Janson, I'll dust your ship and scan for it in the wreckage." The skewed whirl of stars around his cockpit gave his stomach a yank that threatened to make the slab of smoked terrafin loin he'd had for breakfast violently reemerge. Struggling grimly with the controls, he managed to angle his ship's whirl just a hair, which let him twitch his ship's nose toward the four pursuing marauders as he spun. Red fire lashed from his three surviving cannons, and the Interceptors's formation split open like an overripe snekfruit.

Hobbie only dusted one with the cannons, but the pair of proximity-fused flechette torpedoes he had thoughtfully triggered at the same time flared in diverging arcs to intercept the enemy fighters; these torpedo arcs terminated in spectacilar explosions that cracked the three remaining Interceptors like rotten snuffle eggs.

"Now, _that_ was satisfying," he said, still fighting his controls to stabilize the crippled X-wing. "Eyeball shuffle!"

_'Boy, I've got to stop thinking about food'_, he thought to himself.

"_Better watch it, Hobbie - keep that up, and somebody might start to think you can fly that thing_."

"Are you _in_ this fight, Janson? Or are you just gonna hang back and smirk while I do all the heavy lifting?"

"_Haven't decided yet._" Wes Janson's X-wing came out of nowhere, streaking in a tight bank across Hobbie's subjective vertical. "_Maybe I can lend a hand. Or, say, a couple torps_."

Two brilliant blue stars leapt from Janson's torpedo tubes and streaked for the oncoming TIEs.

"Uh, Wes?" Hobbie said, flinching. "Those weren't the new flechette torps, were they?"

"_Sure. What else_?"

"Have you noticed that I'm currently having just a little trouble maneuvering?"

"_What do you mean_?" Janson asked as though honestly puzzled. Then, after a second spent watching Hobbie's ship tumbling helplessly directly toward his torpedoes' target, he said, "_Oh. Uh . . . sorry?_"

The flechette torpedoes carried by Rogue Squadron had been designed and built specifically for this operation. TIE interceptors were bad enough, being the Empire's premier space-superiority fighter. It was faster and more maneuverable than the standard TIE. But these latest Imperial raids indicated that they were given a shield generator, upgraded weapons, concussion missiles, and possibly a hyperdrive, making it equal or above the T-65s flown by the Rogues.

But they weren't armed with genetic shiedling. So each flechette torpedo had been loaded with thousands of tiny jagged bits of durasteel, packed around a core of conventional explosive. On detonation, these tiny bits of metal became an expanding sphere of shrapnel; though traveling with respectable velocity of their own, they were most effective when set off in the path of oncoming TIE Interceptors and Defenders, because impact energy, after all, is determined by_ relative_ velocity. At star-fighter combat speeds, flying into a cloud of metal pellets could transform one's ship into a very, very expensive cheese grater.

The four oncoming Imperial fighters hit the flechette cloud and just . . . shredded. The power core of one fighter erupted, the explosion overtaking the other three.

And now, the unfortunate Lieutenant Klivian was now tumbling directly toward a miniature plasma nebula that blazed with enough hard radiation to cook him like a bantha steak on an obsidian fry-rock at double noon on Tatooine.

"_You're not gonna make it, Hobbie_," Janson called. "_Punch out._"

"Oh, you'd _like_ that, wouldn't you?" Hobbie snarled under his breath, still struggling grimly with the X-wing's controls. The fighter's tumble began to slow. "I've got this, Wes!"

"_No, you don't! Punch out, Hobbie - PUNCH OUT_!"

"I've got it I'm gonna make it! I'm gonna-" He was interrupted by the final flip of his X-wing, which brought his nose into line with the sight of the leading edge of the spherical debris field expanding toward him at a respectable fraction of light speed, and Hobbie Klivian, acknowledged master of both profanity and obscenity, human and otherwise, not to mention casual vulgarities from a dozen species and hundreds of star systems, found he had nothing to say except, "Aw, nuts."

He stood the X-wing on its tail, sub-lights blasting for a tangent, but he had learned long ago that of all the Rogues, he was the one who should no better than to trust his luck. He reached for the eject trigger.

But when he couldn't feel for it, he looked to his left and found a long jagged piece of shrapnel piercing through the cockpit, causing atmosphere to vent. The metal shard had taken out the controls, including the eject trigger. It also took out his left hand.

He glared at his vacant wrist with more annoyance than shock or panic; instead of blood or cauterized flesh, his wrist jetted only sparks and smoke from overheated servomotors. He hadn't had a real left arm since the Battle of Hoth, when he crashed his speeder into an AT-AT walker's neck, severing it.

_Oh, this sucks_, he thought as he put on his oxygen mask and sealed his suit to protect himself from the vacuum, and the subzero temperatures. After everything he had survived in the Galactic Civil War, he was about to be killed by a minor equipment malfunction. He amended his previous thouhgt: _This really sucks_.

Hobbie didn't bother to say it out loud, because there wasn't enough air in his cockpit to carry the sound.

There being no other no other useful thing he could do with his severed left wrist, so he jammed it through the hole above him and sealed the cockpit.

He was about to talk to his astromech droid to review the damage, only to look over his shoulder to find that his droid's head had been ripped off.

He sighed. "Okay, ejection failure. And astromech damaged. Crippled here," he said into the comm. "Awaiting manual pickup."

"_Little busy right now, Hobbie. We'll get to you after we dust these TIEs._"

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere. Except, y'know, that-away. Slowly. Real slowly."

* * *

Rogue Squadron began to chase off the remaining TIEs. They started this battle off outnumbered 20 to 12. Now they outnumbered the enemy 9 to 4. These TIEs were tough, but were no match for the veteran pilots of Rogue Squadron.

The four remaining TIEs began to retreat, and some of the Rogues chased after them.

"_We've got those 'squints' on the run_," one of the pilots called out.

"Nice work _Rogues._ As soon as you splash those TIEs, we'll pick up Hobbie, and head for the rendez-" Wedge said before he was interrupted by his scanners. He looked at them and saw that a lot of large ships were coming out of hyperspace. "Heads up guys, we've got multiple contacts coming right towards us."

No sooner had Wedge finished his sentence than a fleet of Star Destroyers, escorts, and support ships came out of hyperspace.

"_Oh, stang!"_

_"Contacts confirmed_."

"_They've got an Interdictor cruisers. We won't be able to jump to light speed_. W_hat are your orders, Lead?_"

"Send a distress signal to the _Defiance_. We'll have to hold them off until the fleet arrives. Form up on me."

The men and women of Rogue Squadron formed up on Wedge and flew straight into the Imperial fleet.

The Star Destroyers unleashed a maelstrom of firepower on the Republic fighters. Two more of Wedge's pilots were shot down, their screams turning into static in the blink of an eye.

But when the Rogues were close enough, they unleashed a volley of torpedoes at the oncoming Imperial ships, TIE fighters broke off, and Imperial targeting computers were thrown off by the additional contacts. Some TIE fighters were destroyed by the subsequent chain of explosions, one of which vaporized a Gozanti-class freighter and damaged a light cruiser. One of the Interdictors also took a direct hit to one of their gravity generators.

The Imperial fleet ceased fire when the Rogues were mixed in with their fleet, not wanting to cause friendly fire incidents. The TIEs chased the Rogues around the large capital ships like a swarm of angry bees.

Such was the daring and bravery of the best pilots in the New Republic.

Later on, the 2nd fleet of the New Republic Navy jumped put of hyperspace and began to exchange fire with the Imperial fleet. But after exchanging fire for just a few minutes, the Imperial fleet jumped into hyperspace, presumably to its main target. And if their trajectory was right, then their target represented a major threat to the New Republic.

* * *

Hobbie spent the rest of the battle hoping for a bit of help from the Force when Wedge sent out the pickup detail. _Please, _he prayed silently_, please lit it be Tycho. Or Nin, or Strando. Anyone but Janson_.

He continued this plea as a sort of meditation, kind of the way Luke would talk about this stuff: he closed his eyes and visualized Wedge himself showing up to tow his X-wing back to the fleet. After a while, he found this image unconvincing - somehow he was never that lucky - and so he cycled through the other Rogues, and when those began to bore him, he decided it'd be Luke himself. Or Leia. Or, say, Wynssa Starflare, who always managed to look absolutely stellar as the strong, independent damsel-sometimes-in-distress in those pre-war Imperial holodramas, because, y'know, as long as he was imagining something that was never gonna happen, he might as well make it entertaining.

It turned out to be entertaining enough that he managed to pass the balance of the battle drifting off to sleep with a smile on his smile lasted right up to the point where a particularly brilliant flash stabbed through his eyelids and he awoke, glumly certain that whatever had exploded right next to his ship was finally about to snuff him. But then there came another flash, and another, and with painful twist of his body he was able to see Wes Janson's fighter cruising alongside, only meters away. He was able to see the handheld imager Janson had pressed against his cockpit's canopy, with which Janson continued to snap picture after picture.

Hobbie closed his eyes again. He would have preferred the explosion.

"_Just had to get a few shots_." Janson's grin was positively wicked. "_You look like some kind of wierd cross between a star-fighter pilot and a Batavian gumplucker._"

Hobbie shook his head exhaustedly; dealing with Janson's pathetic excuse for a sense of humor always made him tired. "Wes, I don't even know what that is."

"_Sure you do, Hobbie. A starfighter pilot is a guy who flies an X-wing without getting blown up. Check the Basic Dictionary. Though I can understand how you'd get confused._"

"No, I mean the-" Hobbie bit his lip hard enough that he tasted blood "Um, Wes?"

"_Yeah, buddy?_"

"Have I told you today how much I really, really hate you?"

"_Oh sure - your lips say 'I hate you,' but your eyes say-_"

"That someday I'll murder you in your sleep?"

Janson chuckled. "_More or less._"

"What'd I miss out there?"

There was a pause, and then a sigh. "_The TIEs were just an advance force. A huge Imperial fleet just dropped out of hyperspace, and then Ackbar's fleet came in and drove 'em off. Avan and Feylis ejected clean, but Anj and Ooryl were vaporized." _Wes said, with a serious tone . . . for once. _"Look, why don't you get some rest, it'll take me a while to this tow cable attached._"

"Suits me just fine," Hobbie said, closing his eyes again. "I have this dream I really want to get back to . . ."

* * *

_RSV Defiance, flagship of the 2nd Fleet, near Mon Cala_.

"Your pilots performed admirably, Commander Antilles. We weren't expecting an Imperial fleet to be operating in this sector, and you were able to hold your own" Fleet Admiral Gial Ackbar, of the New Republic Navy, nodded grave approval toward the flickering bluish holo-form of Wedge Antilles that hovered a few inches above his console. "Did you suffer any casualties?"

"_Five of my pilots were shot down, but we managed to recover three of them. One of them - Lt. Klivian - needs a new hand . . ._"

Ackbar nodded. "Very well."

"Sir, why were they so quick to leave?"

"The Empire has been fractured, and low on resources, and its supply lines are disorganized. They can't afford long drawn out fights like they used to. They must've been saving their energy for their next objective."

"_What is their objective, Admiral?_"

Ackbar looked at one of his officers, who gave him the report. He looked it over, and found the trajectory of the Imperial fleet, tracking to the planet . . .

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. "No!" He softly exclaimed.

"What is it sir?" One of his officers asked.

"Mon Cala. The Imperial fleet is heading for Mon Cala."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Well folks, that was part 2. **

**It was originally going to be longer, but I decided to move the other part to next chapter.**

**I hope you're enjoying the story so far.**

**Until next time, this is Grubkiller, over and out. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey folks, Grubkiller here.**

**This is part 3 of this story. I'm so sorry that it took me forever. I've been so busy lately with work, and other fan fiction projects. But now, I'm going to focus most of my efforts on this story.**

**I hope that you enjoy.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Senate Building, Coruscant, NRDF situation room_.

Heavy rainfall had just hit Coruscant. Yet, it seemed like another ordinary day in the Republic capital. People across the planet were just getting on with life as normal.

Thousands of speeders were traveling to their destinations around the clock. Large freighters were landing in the space ports all across the planet, to release their cargo or to transport passengers. People were down in the markets waiting to trade whatever goods they brought to the table and try to make a profit.

But some things were out of the ordinary. High above, an X-wing fighter squadron was escorting other cargo freighters from the atmosphere to the surface for security purposes. In military bases all over coruscant, NRDF troopers were on high alert, guarding checkpoints, escorting dignitaries, and conducting military exercises in preparation for whatever situation they may be called upon to deal with.

Some were being transported to the Front lines.

Perhaps things weren't out of the ordinary on Coruscant, at least for Mon Mothma, who was old enough to remember the Clone Wars.

High above the city, in a private meeting room in the Galactic Senate building, the supreme chancellor of the Republic herself was looking through a one-way, shielded window down at the city below.

She saw the population below living lives as normal.

Mon Mothma then caught a glimpse of shuttles being escorted to and from the atmosphere by more X-wings.

_It never ends, _she thought to herself.

Mothma then turned away from the window, back to the private meeting that was taking place behind her. At the table were several prominent New Republic military figures: General Rieekan of the New Republic Army, General Jan Dodonna of the New Republic Starfighter Corps, General Airen Cracken of New Republic Intelligence Service, who were all seated around the table. But reporting in via hologram were General Lando Calrissian of the NR SpecOps branch, and Fleet Admiral Gial Ackbar of the New Republic Navy. All of these men were veterans of the Galactic Civil War, and long time friends of Mothma. She trusted them with her lives.

There was a large map of the Galaxy on the holo-moniter attached to the wall, the blue blotch in the northern Quarter of the galaxy represented Imperial space, and some of the warlord factions, while the Red marked Republic Territory, which controlled the 3/4s of the galaxy, including the Core. There were several blue dots in the red area, which meant Imperial warlords were cut-off. The Borderlands regions, along the Hydian Way, served as the neutral buffer between both sides.

There were also several other monitors that showed the situation unfolding far, far away. Mon Calamari and Quarren warriors fought savagely to hold the line, as a Imperial fleet, the largest single force assembled since the battles of Endor and Jakku, laid waste to the Mon Cala space forces. Swarms of TIE fighters buzzed over the Calamari surface cities, while Imperial Star Destroyers used their immense firepower to pierce the deep oceans, and bombard the underwater cities which housed the vast majority of the planet's populace.

Mon Cala ground forces dug at at choke points, and forces Imperial troops to fight for every corner and inch of ground, and water. While high above, Mon Calamari warships went toe-to-toe with the triangular Star Destroyers of the Imperial Navy.

One monitor showed a column of refugees being loaded into transports that would either take them underwater. Efforts to evacuate by space were thwarted by the blockade.

On another monitor watching that same city, an Imperial Star-Destroyer hovered above Dac City, the planet's most iconic surface dwelling, which housed the Royal family. A large green light materialized beneath the warship for a few moments, when suddenly, the light source produced a powerful beam. It connected to the surface of the city, which created an explosion that vaporized the Royal Palace and the surrounding buildings. The buildings on the outer edge of the city crumbled into the sea.

No one could even begin to imagine how many people were still in the city during the blast.

_"_Gentlemen, I need you to tell me, how did the Empire muster this many forces to attack such a significant target?" the Mon Mothma asked.

"Well Ma'am," General Cracken said walking over to the Holo-map with a pointer stick in his hand. "Apparently, from what we could gather from our probe droids, the Imperial factions seemed to have united all of their forces, and were able to co-ordinate a massive attack. They sent two full Imperial battlegroups and had them attack Mon Cala from different directions through neutral space," Cracken stated as he ran his stick along two lines that cut through the Hydian borderlands all the way to Mon Cala.

"And considering how they managed to clear out the minefields near the hyperspace lanes," Said General Dodonna, "they must've been planning this operation for a while."

"And some big-shot genius really has taken over the Empire," Lando said.

Mon Mothma rubbed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair as all of this information came through to her. Her red hair had started graying, a sign of the stressful job she's assumed. The veteran politician had hoped that with the ending of the Civil War and the restoration of the Republic, that peace could reign. But instead, the Empire has chosen to continue the warpath. And they've taken their anger out on the Mon Calamari.

She let out a sigh, and all eyes fell on her.

"The Mon Calamari have been a proud part of our Alliance since nearly the beginning, and resisted the Empire long before even that. It's really no wonder the enemy has chosen them as a target to unleash their reinvigorated war machine." She then turned to the holo-image of Ackbar. "Isn't that right, Admiral?"

The admiral nodded.

"_Yes. Many years ago, the Empire wanted to enforce poor trade deals on us, and conscript many of us as forced labor. But when we resisted, they smashed our cities and killed millions of our people. Then they took our King hostage. But this experience only hardened my people's will to fight, later as part of the Alliance. When the Emperor created the Death Stars, Mon Cala was at the top of the list of planets that he wanted gone. But now, the Imperial remnants are carrying out their dead Emperor's final command to discipline us. Unless we act immediately, Mon Cala will fall. Billions of people will be punished, our supply of capital ships will be cut, and many planets that are sympathetic to us will lose faith in our ability to defend them. The Republic will be doomed._"

Mon Mothma nodded her head. "Then we must do everything we can to help Mon Cala repel the invasion. "Admiral Ackbar, your fleet is the closest. Go to Mon Cala with all haste and hold the line until reinforcements can arrive.

"Yes, Chancellor," Ackbar said before his hologram disappeared.

Everyone in the room was still dimissed, but Mon Mothma pulled Lando aside to speak with him.

"Congratulations, Lando. Your plan to intercept those Imperial incursions helped us learn of what they're planning, and now we can prevent future incursions."

"Well, I'm thank you Chancellor. I'm just glad to be of service."

"In that case, I'm sure you wouldn't mind going on your next mission that I had in mind?"

"Not at all Chancellor. Name it."

"We know about the Empire's incursions, but we don't know about who is in charge. That is your top priority. I want you to find that missing Elomin task force and see if you can find any clues about where their attackers fled to."

"No problem, ma'am. I'll assemble the best crew that I can. And I already have somebody in mind."

"Oh. In that case, be sure to pass along my our offer to Commander Skywalker."

"I'll do that Chancellor," Lando said as he began to walk away. "I will indeed."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_General Skywalker's Quarters, Imperial Palace_.

"Luke?"

The familiar voice came softly but insistently. Pausing amid the familiar landscape of Tatooine - familiar, yet oddly distorted - Luke Skywalker turned to look.

An equally familiar figure stood there watching him. "Hello, Ben," Luke said, his voice sounding sluggish in his ears. "Been a long time."

"It has indeed," Obi-Wan Kenobi said gravely. "And I'm afraid that it may be longer still until the next time. I've come to say good-bye, Luke. And to bring you a warning."

The landscape seemed to tremble; and abruptly, a small part of Luke's mind remembered that he was asleep. Asleep in his suite in the Imperial Palace, and dreaming of Ben Kenobi.

"No, I'm not a dream," Ben assured him, answering Luke's unspoken thought. "But the distances separating us have become too great for me to appear to you in any other way. Now, even this last path is being closed to you."

"No," Luke heard himself say. "You can't leave us, Ben. We need you."

Ben's eyebrows lifted slightly, and a hint of his old smile touched his lips. "You don't need me, Luke. You are a Jedi, strong in the Force." The smile faded, and for a moment his eyes seemed to focus on something Luke couldn't see. "At any rate," he added quietly, "the decision is not mine to make. I have lingered too long already, and can no longer postpone my journey from this life to what lies beyond."

A memory stirred: Yoda on his deathbed, and Luke pleading with him not to die. _Strong am I in the Force_, the Jedi Master had told him softly. _But not that Strong_.

"It is the pattern of all life to move on," Ben reminded him. "You, too, will face this same journey one day, as your father is now." Again, his attention drifted away, then returned. "You are strong in the Force, Luke, and with perseverance and discipline you will grow stronger still." His gaze hardened. "There has been an awakening. Can you feel it? A tremor in the Force?"

"I have," Luke said.

"That is why it has become more difficult to contact you. The Emperor may be gone, but the Dark Side is is still powerful, and it clouds everything. Never forget that, and you must never let your guard down."

"I won't," Luke promised.

Ben's face softened, and again he smiled. "You will yet face great dangers, Luke," he said. "But you will also find new allies, at times and places where you expect them least."

"New allies?" Luke echoed. "Who are they? And what dangers are you talking about?"

The vision seemed to waver and become fainter. "And now, farewell," Ben said, as if he hadn't heard the question. "I'm glad I was able to see you again, my boy. I loved you as a son, and as a student, and as a friend. Until we meet again, may the Force be with you."

"Ben-!"

But Ben turned, and the image faded . . . and in the dream, Luke knew he was gone. _Then I am alone_, he told himself. _I am the last of the Jedi_.

He seemed to hear Ben's voice, faint and indistinct, as if from a great distance. "Not the last of the old Jedi, Luke. The first of the new."

The voice trailed off into silence, and was gone . . . and Luke woke up.

For a moment he just lay there, staring at the dim lights of the Imperial City playing across the ceiling above his bed and struggling through the sleep-induced disorientation. The disorientation, and an immense weight of sadness that seemed to fill the core of his being. First Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had been murdered; then his childhood friend, Biggs; Yoda; then Anakin Skywalker, his real Father, had sacrificed his own life for Luke's; and now even Ben Kenobi's spirit had been taken away.

Once again, a beloved friend was taken from him too soon.

And for the third time, arguably, he'd been orphaned.

With a sigh, he slid out from under the blankets and pulled on his robes and slippers. His suite contained a small kitchenette, and it took only a few minutes to fix himself a drink, a particularly exotic concoction Lando had introduced him some weeks ago called 'hot chocolate'. Then, attaching his lightsaber to his robe sash, he headed up to the roof.

He had argued strongly against moving the center of the New Republic here to Coruscant. For one, it was too early, and the New Republic needed time to win over 'hearts and minds'. And it sent the wrong message of centralization, when the whole point of the New Republic was to decentralize. But the New Republic insisted on capturing the old image and glory of the Pre-Palpatine Republic. So that included reforming the Galactic Senate in the Grand Convocation Rotunda in the large domed building in the distance

But then came the matter of the old Imperial Palace, which was being used as the military headquarters of the New Republic Defense Force. The symbolism was all wrong, considering the fact that this used to be the Emperor's residency. But even more importantly, this was the former Jedi Temple. It was sacred. But Chancellor Mothma assured him that once the Jedi Order was officially reestablished, all Jedi sites, like as the Temple, would be given government protection. It wsan't an empty promise either. It was an amendment in the New Republic constitution.

But despite all his uncertainty, he had to admit that the view from the top of the Palace was spectacular.

For a few minutes he stood at the roof's edge, leaning against the chest-high wrought stone railing and letting the cool night breeze ruffle his hair. Even in the middle of the night the Imperial City was a bustle of activity, with the lights of vehicles and streets intertwining to form a sort of flowing work of art. Overhead, lit by both the city lights and those of occasional airspeeders flitting through them, the low-lying clouds were a dim sculptured ceiling stretching in all directions, with the same apparent endlessness as the city itself.

He continued gazing at the cityscape when, twenty yards behind him, the door into the Palace was quietly opened. Automatically, his hand moved toward his lightsaber; but the motion had barely begun before it stopped. The sense of the creature coming through the doorway . . . "I'm over here, Threepio," he called.

He turned to see C-3PO shuffling his way across the roof toward him, radiating the his usual mixture of relief and concern. "Hello, Master Luke," he said. "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you."

"That's all right," Luke told him. "I just wanted some fresh air, that's all."

"Are you certain?" Therapy asked. "Though of course I don't mean to pry."

Despite his mood, Luke couldn't help but smile. Threepio's attempts to be simultaneously helpful, inquisitive, and polite never quite came off. Not without looking vaguely comical, anyway. "I'm just a little depressed, I guess," he told the droid, turning back to gaze out over the city again. "Putting together a real functioning government is a lot harder than I expected, too." He hesitated. "Mostly, I guess I'm missing Ben tonight."

For a moment Threepio was silent. "He was always very kind to me," he said at last. "And also to Artoo, of course."

Luke raised his cup to his lips, hiding another smile behind it. "You have a unique perspective on the universe, Threepio," he said.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Threepio stiffen. "I hope I didn't offend you, sir," the droid said anxiously. "That was certainly not my intent."

"You didn't offend me, Luke assured him. "As a matter of fact, you might have just delivered Ben's last lesson to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

Luke sipped at his drink. "Government and entire planets are important, Threepio. But when sift everything down, they're all just made up of people."

There was a brief pause. "Oh," Threepio said.

"In other words," Luke amplified, "a Jedi can't get so caught up in matters of galactic importance that it interferes with his concern for individual people." He looked at Threepio. "Or individual droids."

"Oh. I see." The droid straightened up. "Well, then, sir. If you are indeed all right, I expect I should be on my way."

"Sure. By the way, what made you come up here in the first place?"

"Princess Leia sent me, of course," Threepio answered, clearly surprised that Luke would have to ask. "She said you were in some kind of distress."

Luke smiled and shook his head. Leave it to Leia to find a way to cheer him up when he needed it . . . in her sleep. "Show-off," he murmured.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

Luke waved a hand. "Leia's showing off her new skills, that's all. She's becoming stronger in the Force. Proving that even in the middle of the night she can pick up on my mood."

Threepio's head tilted. "She really _did_ seem concerned about you, sir."

"I know," Luke said. "I'm just joking."

"Oh." Threepio seemed to think about that. "Shall I tell her you're all right, then?"

"Sure," Luke nodded. "And while you're down there, tell her that she should quit worrying about me and get herself back to sleep. Her husband's bad enough, but she has four-year-olds to take care of, so she's tired enough as is."

"I'll deliver the message, sir," Threepio said.

"And," Luke added quietly, "tell her that I love her."

"Yes, sir. Good night, Master Luke."

"Good night, Threepio."

He watched the droid go, and then he shivered, and not from the cold night air. _This place is strong in the dark side_. Yoda had said that of the cave on Dagobah - the cave where Luke had gone to fight a lightsaber duel a vision of Darth Vader who had turned out to be Luke himself. For weeks afterward the memory of the sheer power and presence of the dark side had haunted his thoughts; only much later had he finally realized that Yoda's primary reason for the exercise had been to show him how far he still had to go.

Still, he'd often wondered how the cave had come to be the way it had. Wondered whether perhaps someone or something strong in the dark side had once lived there.

As the Emperor had once lived here . . . .

He shivered again. The really maddening part of it was that he couldn't sense any such concentration of evil in the Palace. The Council had made a point of asking him about that, in fact, when they'd first considered moving operations here to the former Imperial City. He'd had to grit his teeth and tell them that, no, there seemed to be no residual effects of the Emperor's stay.

But just because he couldn't sense it didn't necessarily mean it wasn't there.

He shook his head. _Stop it_, he ordered himself firmly. Jumping at shadows wasn't going to gain him anything but paranoia. His recent nightmares and poor sleep were probably nothing more than the stress of watching Leia and the others struggling to turn a military-orientated rebellion into a civilian-based government. Certainly Leia would never have agreed to come anywhere near this place if she'd had any doubts herself about it.

Leia.

With an effort, Luke forced his mind to relax and let his Jedi senses reach outward. Halfay across the palace's upper section he could feel the New Republic's top diplomat, and Jedi in training, in her drowsy presence. Her presence, and that of her scoundrel husband who lay next to her, and the twin children who slept in the next room.

For a moment he held the partial contact, keeping it light enough to hopefully not awake her any further. He also couldn't help but feel the presence of the two children. The Skywalker heritage was indeed with them.

This was something he had wanted to ask Ben about. But then he realized that he wouldn't be able to get that chance anytime soon.

Fighting bac sudden tears, he broke the contact. His mug felt cold against his hand; swallowing the rest of the chocolate, he took one last look around. At the city, at the clouds . . . and, in his mind's eye, at the stars that lay beyond them. Stars, around which revolved planets, upon which lived people. Trillions of people. Many pf them still waiting for the freedom and light the New Republic had promised them.

He closed his eyes against the bright lights and the equally bright hopes. There was, he thought wearily, no magic wand that could make everything better.

Not even for a Jedi.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Millennium Falcon, hanger bay, Imperial Palace_.

The next day, after receiving the briefing for the attack on Mon Cala, Princess Leia Organa Solo, First Senator of the Galactic Congress, the New Republic's top diplomat, was told to join the Republic fleet as it deployed to the Mon Calamari system. While Ackbar's forces dealt with the Imperial Fleet, Leia would go to the Calamari capital on a good faith tour of the planet, to show that the people of Mon Cala weren't going to be forgotten.

She would go aboard the Millennium Falcon, the captain of which was her husband, and the father of her two twin children, Jacen and Jaina.

But before they had to go, they meet with her brother, Luke Skywalker, who was also being offered a new General commission, and then ordered to be deployed to the Obrao-Skai system, and was also dealing with some serious baggage of his own in that regard.

"Luke, Luke," Han said, arm draped around Luke's shoulders, "this general business, there's nothing to it." He probably thought Luke couldn't see that sly half grin of his. "If I could pull it off, you won't have any problems at all."

"If it's such an easy job, why'd you resign?"

"Better things to do, buddy." Han rolled his eyes at Leia. "The Princess's pretty important, but not so important the New Republic can afford having a full general play chauffeur and bodyguard."

"Bodyguard," Leia sniffed. "If you're my bodyguard, how come _I_ keep having to rescue _you_?"

"It's how you prove you still love me." He grinned at her and turned back to Luke. Seriously, Luke, you can do this. You're easily . . . uh, _almost_ as smart as me - and you're a lot smarter than, say, Lando. All you've got to do is keep your mouth shut and listen to your officers. Don't the squabble, and always pretend you know what to do next. Simple. Tell him, Chewie."

Chewbacca, reclining with hands behind his massive head on the couch by the gaming station, hadn't even opened his eyes. "Aroowrowr. Regular."

"Oh, _you're_ a lot of help. Luke, ignore him anyway - he hates officers."

"I'm not exactly sure I like being one myself."

The offer of a general's commission had come as a complete surprise to Luke, and not a very pleasant one considering the circumstances. He had recently taken a fleet to destroy an Imperial base and kill the Sith Inquisitor that commanded the local forces as warlord. The "Sith" Warlord, who was on the verge of defeat, sent several asteroids crashing into Mindor's surface, that threatened to destroy the planet, and Luke had to organize an evacuation while also dueling The Warlord to the death.

He refused the commission at first, arguing that the best way to serve the New Republic would be as a Jedi, trying to rebuild the Order. But Ackbar and Mothma refused, saying that the Republic needed him. It was then Lando who went to make the offer, and try to convince him to take the commission, saying that he needed him on the mission.

Luke paced around the _Falcon_'s main hold.

Leia and Han and Chewie all sat around, listening intently.

"It's not just about being an officer," Luke said. "Do you know about the _holothrillers_ being produced, about me? They're just making stuff up about me!"

"Yeah, I've seen 'em." Han grinned as he fished a handheld holo-player out of his vest pocket, and tossed it onto the table. "Bought it a couple months ago. Gives me something to do while I'm waiting for Leia to wrap up negotiations somewhere or just, y'know, finish her hair."

Leia rolled her eyes. "No hair jokes, Han. I'm not kidding."

Luke picked up the player and thumbed the controls over the title page. _Luke Skywalker and the Dragons of Tatooine_. "Oh, will you _look_ at this junk?" He shook his head disgustingly and tossed it back to Han, who snagged it neatly from the air. "That's what I mean. It's all - just so _stupid_."

"What? There's dragons on Tatooine, right?"

"Yeah, but when have Krayt dragons been able to breath fire?" Luke asked. "And when have I fought one with a lightsaber? On the back of a bantha. And shirtless!"

"Come on, take it easy, Luke." Han hefted the reader, smiling fondly. Thes're for kids, y'know? And I gotta tell you, some of 'em are actually pretty good."

"Especially the ones about _you_," Leia muttered darkly, to which Han replied with a smirk.

Luke shook his head. "I shudder to imagine your kids growing up with you showing them this garbage."

Han shrugged. "Hey, I'm gonna teach our kids the true value of art with this stuff." He said as he walked over to Leia and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "And it'll make you a good role model for them."

"Oh, you mean like the one called _Luke Skywalker and the Jedi's Revenge?"_

"Take it easy, Luke. So writers spice things up a little. What's the harm with a little wham-bam to make you look tough?"

"That's not how I want to look. And therein lies the problem. Everyone is _watching_ me. It's like they're trying to figure out who I'll turn out to be. And being a general . . . sending other people where they have to take someone's life, or get themselves killed . . ." Luke shook his head again. "Playing the hero when you're in charge just gets a lot of people hurt."

"Who's playing?" Han asked.

But then Leia elbowed him, signaling to Han that it was her turn.

"Luke, this commission is a wonderful opportunity, and not just for you," Leia put in. "Force powers aren't the only kind of power , and there are ways of helping people that are a lot more effective than hitting something with a lightsaber. As a Jedi, you might save the occasional, well, princess in distress or some such, but as a general, you can save people. You've already done that time and again, from Yavin to Mindor. The Defense Force needs you, Luke. You give people hope, especially the people you lead."

Luke smiled and shook his head. "I can't beat you in an argument, Leia. I'm no politician, and the ag school in Anchorhead didn't have a debate team. But - I'm a Jedi. I'm probably _the_ Jedi. Becoming a general . . . it just doesn't _feel_ right."

"Well, y'know, Obi-Wan was a general too, back in the Clone Wars."

"I know, but he hardly talked about it." Luke said.

"He was always modest," Leia said. "Obi-Wan was a part of so many of the stories my fath - my, ah, adoptive father used to tell. He was a great hero of the Republic. That's why I turned to him when my cover was blown."

Luke shook his head. "It's just not the way I've always seen myself spending my life."

"Oh, is that all?" Han asked. "C'mob, Luke - _nobody_ ends up living their lives the way they expect."

"No?" Luke asked. "I can think of this one guy - got his own ship, resigned his commission, got the military off his back, pretty much does whatever he wants to do, mostly just flying around the galaxy with his co-pilot rescuing princesses and such, accountable to no one but himself-"

"Accountable to _no_ one? Are you kidding me?" Han looked appalled. "Luke, have you ever met your sister? Allow me to introduce Princess Leia Organa Solo of, _ouf_-!"

"Of the Extremely Sharp Elbow," Leia finished for him, having delivered the sharp elbow in question rather briskly to his ribs.

"Anyway," Han said as he rubbed his sides, "Would the Force have brought you this chance if you weren't supposed to take it?"

Luke was actually stumped by that comment. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Why not ask Kenobi himself, the next time he shows up as that Force-ghost thing he does?"

Luke shook his head. "He . . . he doesn't come around anymore. He's been drifting away for a while, like he's too far to make contact."

"And maybe that means something," Leia said. Luke gave her a sharp look, and she replied with a shrug, "Look, Luke, I know less about being a Jedi than you do about being a politician, but whatever happens, I'm sure that the Force will still guide your path, and you'll end up knowing where your destiny lies then."

"I suppose," Luke said reluctantly, "it doesn't have to be a _career_ . . ."

"Errrrrr," Chewie barked happily as he gave Luke a big hug and lifted him off of the ground.

Leia laughed, and a broad grin rolled halfway onto Han's face. "You're in?"

Luke nodded, his face turning purple. "I guess I am." He then started petting Chewie wrists. "Okay, Chewie, you can put me down."

* * *

_RSS Liberator, Captured Imperial Star Destroyer, formerly named the ISD Adjudicator, in orbit above Coruscant_.

Luke watched as the fleet en route to Mon Cala jumped into hyperspace, and then he was able to make out the Millennium Falcon, which jumped about five minutes later, wanting to arrive after the fleet went in.

But before it did, he placed his palm on the glass, and reached out with the Force, trying to contact Leia. "May the Force be with you, Leia."

Artoo, who was right next to him, gave a series of beeps.

"Yes, and Threepio too."

That's when Luke heard footsteps nearby and saw a familiar caped figure walking towards them.

"How're you doing you old pilot?" Lando asked, with his arms outstretched. "So good to see you!"

Luke smiled. He then accepted Lando's offer and bro-hugged him. "Hey Lando."

"I'm so glad that you accepted the offer."

"It took some convincing from Han and Leia. Mostly Leia."

"I can imagine. A sister looking out for her brother. It's beautiful actually, much like her." He cracked, before laughing through his toothy smile. He then looked at Artoo. "And how you doing little buddy. You still keepin' Luke here out of trouble?"

Artoo gave a series of excited beeps.

"I thought so," Lando said. He then slapped Luke's shoulder. "Now, where is your Officer's uniform? Those old wigs back there will eat you alive."

"I don't think I should be taking fashion advice from somebody who wears capes . . . and who occasionally dresses as a casino-owner."

Lando shook his head and smiled. "Luke my friend, if looking good is a crime, then I am ready to do life. Now come on. We have a briefing to get to."

* * *

After a five minute walk, Lando, Luke, and Artoo made it to the comms center.

"Admiral Kalback," Lando said as stepped onto the bridge.

All eyes rested on him. But then they shifted towards Luke.

"General Calrissian , and General Skywalker." The human admiral said.

Everybody in the room, mostly the younger officers and crewmen, began to cheer and clap, applauding the latest - and youngest - addition to the Republic Officer Corps.

Luke, somewhat bashful smiled and dismissively waved them off. Wedge Antilles, Luke's old wingman from the Red Squadron days, patted him on the shoulder, and Luke did the same in return.

"Alright, at ease," Kalback said, causing the applause to die down. He then saluted the two men, and then shake their hands.

"It's good to have you with us, General Skywalker." Kalback said as he extended his hand to Luke.

"Likewise Admiral," Luke said, accepting it.

"Now let's get you up to speed." He said before nodding to one of the technicians, a young Mon Calamari woman who controlled the hologram projector.

The lights in the room dimmed, and a schematized holo-representation of the Obroa-Skai system filled the comms center with ghostly, translucent clouds of blue that ever so slowly twisted and spun, merged and parted, moving into and through each other. High in the center of the room hung a dark disk, about the size of a circular dinner table, which represented Obroa-Skai itself.

The planet of the same name was a brilliant pinpoint that hung, at this point in the simulation, about a meter in front of the commanding general's nose. He barely saw the TIE Fighter profiles that flew away from the planet, and jumped in the direction where they last had contact with an Elomin Task Force.

"As most of you already know, last week, there was a raid on the planet Obroa-Skai by a squadron of Imperial Tie Fighters, equipped with hyperdrives, allowing them to move in and out of lightspeed without help from a nearby capital ship. Then they tried to lift data from the Obroa-Skai library archives. But they were forced to disengage and retreat. A New Republic Task Force, consisting of four assault frigates and 3 star-fighter wings gave chase. And then we lost all contact with them. They have been assumed lost with all hands. Our mission is to find the wreckage of the fleet, and find the black-box recorder on the flagship, and we're going to try and find out who attacked them, and where they went."

Kalback then gestured towards the technician, who turned the hologram off, and allowed the lights to come back on.

"Any question?" Kalback asked.

A few hands went up.

"Yes, Commander Antilles?"

Wedge stood up. "So, do we know what the Empire was after, on Obroa-Skai, sir?"

The admiral shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. But we do know that they didn't get it. Because thankful, the Empire failed to gain any information from their scan. No data was missing from the local's archives. So they failed to find what they were looking for."

"Next?"

He picked Luke's hand.

Everyone looked at him. Some of the starry eyed people who saw him as a larger-than-life figure were surprised that he wanted to ask a question. They assumed that because he was a Jedi, then he must've known absolutely everything.

_If only that was even close to accurate. ._ .

"What search pattern's will we be using to find this task force?"

"Once we get to the Obroa-Skai system, we're going to be launching deep-space probes to begin scanning in the direction that the task force went. Some were already launched a few days ago, but didn't find anything. So we know where not to look. And then X-Wing squadrons will fan out and do the same. Once you find anything, I want you to contact the rest of the task force and we'll gather at your location. Once we find out who did this, we're going to find the scum that did this, and make them pay. Any more questions?"

Wedge asked the next question.

"Sir, if it's the Empire that's behind this, how are we going to go into Imperial territory without provoking the other factions?"

"Well Commander, I'm sure that you're aware of the fact that we are currently standing aboard an Imperial-I class Star Destroyer, captured during the Battle of Endor. We're going to use this as a disguise to attack Imperial supply lines. The other warlords will think that they're being attacked by another Imperial faction, and more infighting will commence. We'll literally be hiding in plain sight. Any more questions?"

No hands went up.

"Alright, report to your duty stations once we reach our destination. Until then, dismissed."

As everyone began to leave Luke couldn't help but notice the look that several of the older officers were giving him

But then he noticed that the older officers weren't cheering for him earlier at all, and some of them, he noted, were less than enthused out Luke being here. As a flight officer, that was one thing. But as a general, their superior, they didn't think he belonged here.

Luke knew he didn't look much like a general, or even a soldier. The smooth curves of his face made him look even younger than his 27 standard years; his sandy hair, streaked blond by radiation from dozens of different stars, he was still shaggier than military-strict, and instead of a general's battle dress uniform he wore a simple, close-fitting flight suit, like the star-fighter pilot he had recently been. Only the rank plaque on his chest marked him as a general, and only the remote, shuttered reserve behind his clear blue eyes showed the price he had paid to earn his rank.

His unconventional appearance extended even to his weapon of choice. Instead of a sidearm, it was a weapon that no general had gone into battle with since the end of the Clone Wars.

He carried a lightsaber.

Though Luke would never say it, he agreed with the old timers. More than half of them served in the Alliance before Yavin. And a few, like Kalback, even held commands long ago during the Clone Wars.

And the younger officers wouldn't challenge him on anything because they assumed that as a Jedi, he would know everything.

Right now, all he _really_ knew was that he should never have let Han talk him into this.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Well folks, that was part 3 of this story. **

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I'll try to get Part 4 up as soon as possible.**

**Until then, Grubkiller out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Have no fear, Grubkiller is here.**

**Hey folks, here's part 4 of this story.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Home One, en route to Mon Cala_.

As the deep-blue tunnel of hyperspace waved past the viewport of the flagship's bridge, Admiral Ackbar sat in his command chair, waiting with baited breath for his ship to come out of hyperspace, where he would then help free his people, once again.

But as he sat in deep thought, an ensign of the same species called out to him. "Admiral Ackbar, sir. We've intercepted a new hyperspace communications channel. It's being beamed between Mon Cala's orbit, and every system in the Galactic Core. It's coming from the Imperial flagship."

Ackbar stepped up from his chair and walked over to the railing, and looked down at the holo-projector. "Patch the image through to the rest of the fleet, and get me through to First Senator Leia."

A few moments later, a hologram of Princess Leia stood next to Ackbar, as well as several other holograms of Republic officers from the other cruisers. They were all gathered around the holo-projector in the center of the bridge.

The images that were being beamed were straight out of a horror film from the HoloNet.

They saw images of the mighty Mon Calamari orbital shipyards reduced to flaming wrecks that turned into meteor showers that sprinkled across the planet.

A trio Imperial Star Destroyers gathered in a wedged formation to use their combined on the surface below. The ensuing orbital bombardment wiped out several cities that were deep beneath the waves.

Golan defense towers were used to blockade the planet, and deploy stormtrooper battalions to the surface, where they fought bloody battles for control of the few Calamari cities that were above sea level.

Then came images of thousands of Calamari and Quarren peoples being moved into slave ships, after the images of millions of dead bodies floating in the sea.

The Mon Calamari people were being punished for their support of the Rebel Alliance.

"_Th-. . . this is Genocide_!" Leia softly exclaimed, taken aback by the images of the destruction of Mon Calamari.

"_Monsters! Every last one of them_." Someone else said.

"The Empire just did us a favor," Ackbar said.

Every holographic officer around him was flabbergasted. In Leia hologram, Han Solo and Chewbacca leaned their heads toward Leia, to appear in her hologram. They were both confused as well.

"_Admiral, are you feeling okay_?" Han asked.

But Ackbar turned his attention to the bridge crew. "Helm! Recalculate our exit from hyperspace at two degrees from the Empire's point of transmission."

"Yes, Sir!"

"_Admiral?_" A confused officer asked.

But Ackbar continued to give orders. "All cruisers, form up behind _Home One_. Single battle line."

The other cruiser slowly started to adjust their hyperspace courses so that they would end up in a single file formation once they entered real-space.

"Admiral?!" Leia asked.

"Yes, your highness?" Ackbar finally answered.

"What are you doing?" Leia asked.

"Yeah, are you crazy?" Han asked. If you leave hyperspace at those co-ordinates, you'll smash into whatever's sending that signal."

An annoyed Leia pushed Han's head out of the view of the holo-recorder, for his own good.

"That's the idea, Captain Solo! Just be ready to transport the First Senator to the surface. Everyone else, just follow my lead," Ackbar said as he hit the button to terminate all of the hologram transmissions from the other ships in the fleet.

"Coordinates locked in, Admiral. We'll exit hyperspace in forty-five seconds!" The Helmsman called out.

"Stand by to cut in sub-light engines." Ackbar said as he returned to his command chair. "Prepare to fire all forward batteries on my command."

"YES, SIR!"

At the split second it emerges from hyperspace, _Home One_ unleashed the full destructive power of its forward weapons. The Imperial Star Destroyer Allegiance, source of the gruesome transmissions, is caught with its deflector shields down. The bridge superstructure erupted into a ball of flames, and the rest of the ship was claimed by the planet's gravitational pull.

"Were blasting through the blockade!" Ackbar said over a fleet wide transmission. "All ships, follow our lead!"

"_We copy, Home One. We're coming in astern_."

Soon, every cruiser in the Republic fleet followed _Home One_, acting out a tactic created by Ackbar himself.

The Ackbar Slash.

The fleet's heavy capital ships formed a single battle line and carved straight through the Imperial formation, hammering away at Imperial warships on either side with their broadsides.

Star Destroyers that were closest to the Republic battle line were reduced to smoldering wrecks, and the Imperial fleet tried desperately to split apart and reform into two battlegroups to counterattack. But they were soon swarmed by Republic fighters, assault frigates, and blockade runners.

The Liberation of Mon Cala had truly begun.

The last thing the_ ISD Allegiance_ transmitted was the arrival of the Republic Navy blasting its way though the Imperial blockade, giving a ray of hope to all of those who were watching with dread just a few minutes ago. Not least of all to the peoples of Mon Cala.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_ISD __Chimaera_.

It took the Chimaera nearly five days at its Point Four cruising speed to cover the roughly four hundred lightyear distance between the Obroa-Skai system and the planet Wayland. But that was all right, because it took the engineers nearly that long to come up with a portable frame that would both support and nourish the specimens that were brought on board from the planet Myrkyr.

"I'm still not convinced this is really necessary," Pellaeon grumbled, eyeing with distaste the thick curved pipe and the fur-scaled, salamander-like creature attached to it.

It was a ysalamiri.

For whatever reason, Thrawn wanted a slew of these creatures collected on Myrkyr. The pipe and its attached frame were blasted heavy, and it didn't help that the creatures had a less than pleasant odor.

"How will these creatures help in our war effort against the Rebellion, and why would we need them here now? If this guardian you're expecting was put on Wayland by the Emperor in the first place, then I don't see why we should have any problems with him."

"Call it a precaution, Captan," Thrawn said, settling into the shuttle's co-pilot seat and fastening his own straps. "It's conceivable we could have trouble convincing him of who we are. Or even that we still serve the Empire." He sent a casual glance across the displays and nodded to the pilot. "Go."

There was a muffled _clank_, and with a slight jolt the shuttle dropped from the Chimaera's docking bay and started its descent toward the planet surface. "We might have had an easier time convincing him with a squad of Death Troopers along," Pellaeon muttered watching the repeater display beside his seat.

"We might also have irritated him," Thrawn pointed out. "An Inquisitor's pride and sensibilities are not to be taken lightly, Captain. Besides-" he looked over his shoulder at the silent nightmare figure in the seat behind them, "-that's what Rukh is for."

"Any close associate of the Emperor ought to be able to figure out that we're Imperial officers," Pellaeon said.

"Imperial officers, yes. But belonging to which faction?" Thrawn countered. "What does it mean to be Imperial in this day and age, Captain? A hundred Imperial governors, admirals, or moffs may claim to be apart of the Empire, but then they take a tiny fleet and try to usurp one another for control over resources, territory, and prestige. So what reason would this Inquisitor have to assume that we are on the same side?"

"Even so, sir" Pellaeon said, "you seem certain that the person down there is a member of the Emperor's Inquisitors."

"Who else would the Emperor have chosen to protect his personal storehouse?" Thrown countered. "A legion of stormtroopers, perhaps equipped with AT-ATs and the kind of advanced weaponry and technology you could detect from orbit with your eyes closed?"

Pellaeon grimaced. That, at least, was something they wouldn't have to worry about. The Chimaera's scanners had picked up nothing beyond bow-and-arrow stage across the surface, excluding the observatory. It wasn't all that much comfort. "I'm just wondering whether the late Emperor might have stored down there if one of his assassins haven't left it unguarded, even after all these years."

Thrawn shrugged. "We'll know soon enough."

The gentle roar of atmospheric friction against the shuttle's hull was growing louder now, and on Pellaeon's repeater display details of the planet's surface were becoming visible. Much of the area directly beneath them appeared to be forest, spotted here and there with large, grassy plains. Ahead, occasionally visible through the haze of clouds, a single mountain rose above the landscape. "Is that Mount Tantiss?" he asked the pilot.

"Yes, sir. The observatory ought to be visible soon."

Then, Pellaeon spotted something in the distance. "What's that over there, in the distance?" He said, pointing at a tall and mostly rectangular object, but with a triangular front. It was brown, and just visible over the treetops.

"It looks like a sand-crawler, sir."

"Great. That means there are Jawas stripping down the observatory." Pellaeon said. "How did we miss this? I thought the scanners could only detect primitive technology on the surface."

"Perhaps it was too close to the facility to differentiate, sir." The pilot said.

"Arm forward blaster cannons, let's be ready to drive them off."

"Not yet. I don't believe we have anything to worry about. Maintain an orbiting flight pattern around the facility."

"But sir, the facility-"

"Is secure." Thrawn finished for Pellaeon. "Besides, I think our friend on the surface will be dealing with it personally."

* * *

_Wayland, abandoned Imperial Observatory_.

On the planet surface of Wayland, at the base of the rocky mountains, a pair of Jawas were in the middle of an encampment, working on a GONK droid that they bartered for in a nearby trading post. One of the hooded Jawas was inspecting the droid, as it sparked with blue energy. The other Jawa chattered in his native tongue, scolding his companion. They clearly got a raw deal when they traded for this droid.

As one of the Jawas banged on the droid in a frustrated manner, the other one noticed a new figure walking up to them.

He wore a black leather suit and black robes, with some dark metal plates over his chest, shoulders, and collar. But the most menacing part about him was the metal claws on his gauntlets, and the deathless, horrible mask that hid his face.

The mysterious figure then activated a red lightsaber and swung it through the screaming Jawa, the droid, and his friend. They all lay dead and smoking at the figure's feet.

The figure was Darth Starkiller. Leader of the Sith Inquisitors, and a legion of Imperial Shadow Troopers.

Starkiller deactivated his lightsaber and looked around.

He looked around at the landscape with a sense of indifference. But the Jawa encampment made his anger flare up. This was hollowed ground, and these Jawas were trying to steal the Emperor's secrets.

He was directed here by one of the Emperor's sentinel droids, carrying a final message from the late Emperor.

The message: Find the Emperor's observatory, and guard its secrets. He went on ahead, and headed for the pearl-white structure that jutted out from the mountainside.

Then his com-link began to beep.

"_My lord, this is... Captain Berrus aboard the stealth ship, _Carrion Spike_,_" said the voice of a hesitant imperial officer. "_One of the Emperor's Sentinel droids have instructed me to... assist you as needed."_

"Very well, Captain..." Starkiller said in a deep robotic voice as he continued to rush across the cliffside. "...proceed."

_"Yes, my lord. It appears that you've already discovered an encampment of Jawas. Disgusting creatures,_" Berrus said, clearly repulsed. "_You'll need to clear them out before heading for the facility_."

Starkiller rushed through the camp, made of small shacks that were made of scrap metal, and came face to face with a couple dozen Jawas. They knew that he wasn't here for any good. So they decided to try and teach him a lesson for trespassing. They rushed out of their little shacks with blowtorches and homemade hand grenades. Several reprogrammed battle droids activated and marched towards Starkiller. They began to open fire on him.

He ignited his red lightsaber and went to work, deflecting their blast bolts.

Several Jawas fell from their own droid's fire power. Some Jawas tried to toss their homemade detonators. But before they could reach Starkiller and detonate, he made them freeze midair. That's when they flew back and exploded into the battle droids, and their recharging stations. The explosion caused several fuel canisters to be set ablaze, spreading fire across the camp.

One final Jawa tried to swing at Starkiller's legs with his blowtorch. But the Inquisitor merely used the force to lift the little creature's head into his one flesh palm. As it struggled in his hand, Starkiller used force lightning to make energy coarse through his hand and into the Jawa's head. When it stopped kicking and screaming, Starkiller used the force to throw the Jawa over the side of the mountain.

_"Excellent work, work my lord. Now you must get passed the sandscrawler blocking your path to the facility._" Captain Berrus said.

Starkiller walked in front of the ship and used the force to disengage the brakes, which caused the treads to roll forward, and out of the way. It then drove over the side of the cliff and then crashed at the bottom of the mountain, before erupting into a magnificent explosion. The path was now clear for Starkiller to pass.

Moments later, as Starkiller walked closer and closer to the palace, arrows began to fly past his face. Realizing that he was in danger, he force dashed to the side just in time to avoid another incoming arrow.

_"Lord Starkiller. We're detecting lifeforms nearby. But they seem to be wielding primitive weapons. They've taken position in the rocky cliffs on either side of the road to the facility._" Berrus said.

Starkiller used the force to blast away several incoming arrows. One was hit in the face by his own arrow, causing him to fall forward and plunge to the cliff below.

"Do not fail to warn me again, captain." Starkiller threatened.

"_Ye-y-yes... my lord_," Berrus said.

Starkiller went back to work, dodging and blasting arrows. One by one, the native archers fell. One more was atop a rocky butte, next to the path to the facility. Starkiller picked up a rock, shocked it with electricity, and threw it at the rock. The top of exploded in a ball of electricity, vaporizing the archer.

When he was done, nothing happened.

All was quiet.

He walked up to the massive metal door that served as the facility's main entrance.

But then he stopped.

"The secrets of this facility don't belong to outsiders." Starkiller said before he turned around. "Turn back or die."

Three figures stood behind him, about ten paces away. A Chiss, a Human, and a Noghri, all standing there with odd creatures attached to them.

"I'm afraid that's not an option," the Chiss said with a cool and collected voice.

"Very well," Starkiller said before he raised his empty hands in front of him, palms downward.

Without warning, blue lightning bolts flashed from his fingertips-

And vanished without a trace a meter away from each of them.

It all happened so fast that the three figures had no chance to even flinch. The human officer and the short brown alien tried to raise their blasters, but the the Chiss calmly raised his left hand, signaling to them to stand down.

Starkiller stopped shooting lightning, as it clearly didn't have an effect.

"As you can see, Inquisitor, we are not ordinary off-worlders." The Chiss said. "We are Imperial officers. I'm Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"The Empire is dead." Starkiller said calmly with his sinister robotic voice. He then unleashed more lightning, only for it again to vanish into nothingness before even coming close.

"Yes, the old Empire is dead," Thrawn agreed, shouting to be heard over the crackling thunder. "Yet you still guard its secrets. And you too are summoned by the command of our late Emperor."

Starkiller stopped when he heard those last words.

He looked at them with a newfound interest. But also a health dose of skepticism. "You were summoned by the Emperor's final order as well?"

"Yes," Thrawn said.

He then nodded to the human officer, who pulled a comm-projector from his utility belt. He then tossed it to Starkiller, who caught it. He then activated it to listen to the recording.

A hologram of a sentinel droid's head appeared, with its face showing that of the late Emperor himself.

"_Grand Admiral Thrawn. Operation: Cinder is to begin at once. Resistance. Rebellion. Defiance. These are concepts that cannot be allowed to persist. You are but one of many tools by which these ideas shall be burned away__."_

The recording stopped.

"The order told us to come here, to this facility," Thrawn continued.

"How did you block my attacks?" Starkiller asked, ignoring Thrawn's statement.

"Join us and learn," Thrawn suggested. "We are here because the Emperor commands it, and we believe that whatever lies within this facility is the key to the final victory for the Empire, and an end to the Rebellion."

For a long moment, Starkiller continued to stare at Thrawn, with any expression hidden behind his emotionless mask and neutral body language. "Very well," he said at last before he turned around and used the force on the massive door. For a few moments nothing happened. But then, the door began to creak, a sign that it hadn't been opened in ages. But it opened nonetheless. "Come. We will see what the Emperor left for his most loyal followers."

Starkiller went inside.

And before Thrawn and his companions followed, he contacted the _Chimaera_. "_Chimaera_ bridge, this is Thrawn. We have gained access to the facility. Commence ground operations at your convenience."

* * *

Starkiller, Thrawn, Pellaeon, and Rukh all walked into the facility, which was clean and polished, because it was well maintained by the caretaker droids within. All of the security systems were deactivated, allowing them to walk through without hinderance.

It took them seven hours to find anything of value, before they needed more men to cover the search, and help lock down the mountain range.

Turbo-laser towers and sniper nests were set up all over the mountain, and checkpoints were set up along the road that led into the facility. And as more structures were set up on the ground, and Stormtroopers deployed en masse, more ground could be covered by technicians and various droid models.

In the end, they did indeed find the treasures Thrawn had hoped for.

Cloaking shield schematics for warships.

Spaarti-cloning tubes, with DNA that went along with them.

Starkiller went to a part of the facility that had ancient artifacts.

But what caught Thrawn's attention the most was the mapping data that he came across. The Emperor had set up observatories on the edge of the Unknown regions in order to watch the stars. But he also heavily militarized that region as well, with shipyards, mining installations, and training facilities. Thrawn knew them best of all, because he's the one who mapped out the region for this to happen in the first place, and allowed Imperial loyalists to form the First Order.

But there was one spot on the map, deep within the Galactic Core, that even he was surprised by.

He took a good long look at the planet's name.

Byss.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey folks, Grubkiller here.**

**Here's part 5 of this story.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Millenium Falcon, en route to Mon Cala_.

"Han," Leia said from her seat in the Falcon, behind Han, "The Navi-computer just reported extreme turbulence at our re-entry co-ordinates."

The Falcon went into Hyperspace to follow Admiral Ackbar's fleet. They were about twenty minutes behind the fleet, waiting for them to clear a path to the planet. But due to the still-raging battle, they were about to run into an obstacle in the form of a debris field from previously destroyed ships.

"That'll be debris, Leia." Han said. "The system'll be littered with it by now."

He turned to his hairy co-pilot. "Warn the other ships, Chewie!" He said. "And prepare to exit hyperspace!"

C-3PO was sitting in the back seat behind Chewie. "Sir, the odds of collision with any space debris are 3,722 to 1. If I may suggest-"

"NRAWWUNNN!" Chewie barked.

"Chewie! Watch your thrusters!" Han ordered. "And remind me to crossfire Goldenrod's voice synthesizer when we get back to base!"

Threepio was offended by that remark, and continued. "But, sir, If I may say so-"

"Threepio, stand down!" Leia ordered as she continued looking at the readouts. "Five seconds to re-entry!"

The Millennium Falcon, retrofitted with the latest light-speed ion engines, bursts out of hyperspace, and the blue-white tunnel reverted back to real-space in seconds. But real-space was fill with the debris from the previous engagements over Mon Cala.

"NNNWARRAR!" Chewie barked.

"Starship wreckage dead ahead! Thrusters full right!" Han ordered into the comm.

The Falcon and the Star-fighters escorting it pulled to their right to avoid the skeletal remains of warships and space stations alike. The Falcon and most of her escort find a path through the destruction.

But two of the Republic fighters aren't so lucky and crash into the debris field.

"Admiral, we just entered the system," Leia said into her comm. "But we just lost two fighters to the debris field."

"_Your highness, we're in position over Mon Cala. Your path to the surface will be cleared momentarily._" Ackbar said. "_Deflector shields up! All ships, prepare to take further offensive action!_" Ackbar ordered to someone else.

"_The rest of the fleet's through, sir! They're keeping the rest of the Imperial fleet at bay._"

"_Good. Launch all fighters and transports, and prepare for ground assault. We must get down there and protect the people of Mon Cala._"

A few moments later, dozens of Starfighters and ground transports flew out of several New Republic capital ships, deploying troops and supplies to the surface. "_Fighters and transports away, Admiral!_"

"_Good. Your Highness, this is your chance to reach the surface. You're clear to proceed._"

"Thank you, Admiral. Your people won't forget what we did here today. Not least of all, you."

"_Thank you, your highness. And good luck_." Ackbar said, befroe cutting the transmission.

The Falcon flew to the surface, amidst the hundreds of fighters and drop ships, as the battle continued to rage hard above them.

"I still think that we should've stayed home," Han said as he continued to fly to the surface. "Why are we traveling to an active War-zone. I mean, Ackbar's fleet already has the Imperials doing the Gamorrean two-step! Shouldn't that be enough to convince the Calamari that we're on their side?"

"But Han," Leia said, "It's not just the Mon Calamari we're here to talk to, but the Quarren as well. They may be on good terms with the Calamari, and some of them helped us in the Civil War, but the Quarren are heavily isolationist, they want nothing to due with the Republic. We need to let them know as well that we're on their side. That's why this mission is so urgent."

"Hnawwwruunnh." Chewie barked.

"Alright, alright," Han said as they entered the atmosphere. "Fair point."

He then hit the comm switch.

"Dac City flight control, this is Han Solo of the _Millennium Falcon_. I'm inbound from orbit with First Senator Leia Organa Solo. Acknowledge."

All Han got was a jumble a garbled transmissions from the surface below, most likely from the battle above and below.

A few minutes later, a voice finally broke through the garbled mess and reached the Falcon.

"_Flight control to _Millenium Falcon_. We copy your last, Solo!" _An anxious voice called out._ "But we cannot authorize your landing at this time. We're currently under siege._"

When the Falcon finally broke through the cloud cover, they saw oceans for miles in every direction. But then they found their destination: Dac City.

The city had gleaming buildings that jutted out of the ocean. But the buildings were on fire, and pillars of smoke rose from the destruction. Imperial AT-AT Walkers smashed their way through the streets, while TIE Fighters buzzed around above the city.

Mon Calamari and Quarren warriors did everything they could to stop their advance. point defense guns were used to shoot down the TIEs. One AT-AT walker lay on its side, smashing the building it fell on, covered in fire and debris.

The battle for this noble city continued to turn more ravenous, as Imperial and Calamari soldiers fought for every inch of territory.

"Han we have to do something!" Leia said.

"You're right," Han said before he spoke into the comm device. "Flight control. We really need to land, so we're going to help clear them out for you."

"_Negative, _Falcon._ We cannot autho-_," The voice said before Han shut off the comm.

"It was a boring conversation anyway." He said.

Solo skillfully pilots the Falcon through the chaos of the battle, before he flew around the city, preparing for an attack run on one of the walkers.

"Take the helm Chewie. You're about to watch the greatest husband and wife gunner team in the galaxy!" Han said before he and Leia went to the back.

"I hope so," Leia said with concern. "I've only ever had to use one of these things, once."

"Don't worry, it'll be easy." Han said. "You'll do fine," he said before he gave her a peck on the forehead, before climbing the ladder to the upper quad-turret.

Leia then climbed down to the belly turret.

As she gripped the controls of the Falcon's blaster cannon, she remembered one of the lessons Luke taught her... letting her mind merge with the living energy field that binds the galaxy together.

'_Luke is right...' _she thought to herself_. 'I can feel the Force moving through me... guiding my hands. Even in the terrible tasks of War.'_

Without even thinking about it, she unleashed a barrage of blaster fire onto one of the massive AT-AT walkers that was advancing towards the Royal Palace. Her blaster bolts traveled up the armored legs, and over the main body. Her lasers didn't seem to be having any effect, until they began hitting the walker's vulnerable neck, causing an explosion that severed its head.

"I got him!" Leia called out over the comm.

"_Great, honey." _Han called back_. "Just don't get cocky._"

She smiled, remembering that it was what he told Luke after they escaped the Death Star. Back when the old team was first gathered.

The Millennium Falcon continued to make gun runs on the Imperial walkers. Between Han and Leia using the Quad cannon, and Chewie firing proton torpedoes, The Empire's offensive started to lose steam, and it remained that way until Republic reinforcements arrived, and Mon Cala's forces rallied to drive the Empire out of their city.

"_Excellent work, _Falcon_._" Said the air-traffic controller in Dac City's comm center. "_You're clear to land_."

When the Falcon landed, Leia and Han disembarked, along with C-3PO, while Chewie stayed behind to check on the Falcon. They were met by a party of Mon Calamari royal guardsmen.

"Greetings, Princess Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic Senate. On behalf of his majesty, King Lee-Char, let me be the first to welcome you to Mon Cala."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Outside the Obroa-Skai system, last known location of New Republic Task Force_.

Out in the far reaches of space, half a dozen InCom T65 X-wings flew through the stars, as they searched for any signs of a mission New Republic Task Force. The squadron was being led by two great war heroes.

Commander Wedge Antilles and General Luke Skywalker, the two men who formed Rogue Squadron in the first place.

Under their leadership, they created the best star-fighter squadron in the New Republic.

In the Galaxy.

From the Battles of Yavin, Hoth, Endor, Coruscant, and Jakku, these pilots were at the center of the fight, bringing much needed morale to the men and women of the New Republic Defense Force.

"_I'm just saying, we're out in the middle of nowhere, when all of the action is happening in the Calamari system. The fighting'll be over by the time we find anything out here._" Hobbie said over the Squadron's comm.

"_What's the rush, Hobbie?" Plourr Ilo_ asked_. "You raring to get shot down again?_"

"_He wants to take another dip in the batch tank." Wes Janson said. "I told you he was addicted to that stuff._"

Luke smiled and shook his head. "Alright guys, break it up. In all seriousness, you should enjoy this peace and quiet while you can."

"Yes, General," the other pilots said in unison.

For several more minutes they continued to fly in formation, before reaching a set of Co-ordinates that they were given.

"Alright Rogues," Wedge started, "we're coming up on the co-ordiated that Admiral Kalback provided. We'll split up into three pairs and begin sweeping the area. We'll meet back here in one hour. If anything goes wrong, give us a yell."

When the squadron split up, Wedge and Luke continued on ahead.

After about thirty minutes of scanning the region and flying to different co-ordinates, Wedge began to speak.

"_The team seems happy to have you back, Luke._"

"It honestly feels good to be back. I loved being a pilot." Luke said as he clenched his fists around the controls. "I helps me think straight, doing stuff that I love. Besides that briefing room was driving me crazy."

"_Not taking kindly to the new commission, Luke?_"

"You can say that."

"_Well, you've earned it. Everyone in the Alliance looks up to you. And the Rogues love having you back._"

"But the thing is, Wedge, that everyone has these assumptions about me, like I can do no wrong. The younger officers and soldiers seem to see me as a perfect being who can do no wrong. And the older officers think that I'm just a kid that was handed his post. They'll either do everything I say, or they'll undermine me at every turn. It just seems like too much pressure. I'm worried that I might end up making too many mistakes."

"_I can see why that would be a lot of pressure. But remember Luke, no officer is perfect. We all have to make decisions that can cost lives. But that's all apart of the Job. I'm sure you'll learn as you go. And for what it's worth, the other Rogues'll follow you wherever you go. And I'll be right behind you, too._"

"Thanks Wedge."

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a series of whistles and beeps coming from Artoo.

"What is it, Artoo?" Luke asked.

The droid's speech began to appear on the translator screen.

"Artoo's detected an anomaly, just off our starboard side."

"_My droid found it too. Think it's the missing Task Force?_" Wedge asked.

"One way to find out," Luke said as he banked the ship hard to the right. "Follow me and stay alert."

As they flew closer and closer to the source of the anomaly, they began to pick up pieces of floating wreckage along their flight path. The pieces became bigger and bigger, and more tightly packed as they got closer, until finally, they found several wrecked warships.

"By the Force!" Luke exclaimed, in a hushed tone.

"Oh my... what did this?!" Wedge asked.

"I don't know. We better find the flagship and get to that black-box."

As the two X-wings flew further into the debris field, an Imperial probe droid began to watch their every move, before signaling several more like it. They then started jamming all long range transmissions.

No witnesses.

* * *

_Wreckage of the Elomin Task Force_.

Luke and Wedge slowly maneuvered their X-Wings into the hanger of the derelict assault frigate. The hanger itself was dark, and their were no signs of life. Not even a single piece of debris.

"_Atmospheric readings are showing up, zero. This whole ship is riddled with hull breeches._" Wedge said over the comm, their ships touched the ground with a muffled clank.

"Alright, we'll have to seal our suits." Luke said as he put his oxygen mask on, which sealed around his face and under his helmet and pilot gear.

He then pulled the canopy release, which opened with a hiss as the cockpit began to lose pressure. As he climbed out of the X-Wing, the sound around him became much more quiet, with no oxygen to carry the sound.

Wege hopped out of his X-Wing as well.

With no gravity to keep them down, they'd have to float their way to the bridge.

Luke spoke into his comm. "Artoo, and you and Arfour should stay and watch over the ships. We'll head for the bridge."

Artoo beeped and whistled a reply.

"We'll call when we'e what we came here for." Wedge said.

And with that, they began their float towards the bridge. The corridors were full of ruin and debris, and hull breeches littered the ship. There were moments when Luke and Wedge had to jump across sections of corridor that opened up into space, which had no visible floor, hanks to whatever caused this much damage.

But when they got closer and closer to bridge, that was when Luke could sense something. It was like the shadows behind him were playing tricks with them.

Following them even.

He turned around and saw nothing. Whatever it was held his gaze for a few moments. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he snapped out of it.

It was Wedge.

"Hey, Luke. You okay?"

"Ye-Yeah. I'm fine. It's nothing." Luke said, before he began following the path to the bridge again.

But those shadows he thought he saw weren't going away anytime soon.

* * *

"Alright, let's get this door open." Luke said when they finally reached the bridge.

"How're we gonna open it with no power?" Wedge asked.

Luke unhooked his lightsaber from his utility belt and ignited it, the brilliant green-white blade extending with a snap-hiss, splashing green light on the dark walls.

He then looked at Wedge with a smirk before plunging the sword into the durasteel door. He started cutting a hole in the door. When Luke was done, having cut a perfect oval out of the door, he used the Force to pull the slab of metal towards him, and then tossed it aside down the hallway.

But when he and Wedge looked back towards the door, they were startled by what they saw.

The frozen corpse of a former crew-member, who showed an expression of terror and anguish on his face, was floating right in front of the door.

"Mother of Moons!" Wedge exclaimed.

Luke was taken aback as well, and was horrified to see that he wasn't the only one still on the bridge. More frozen corpses were scattered around the bridge, destined to float aimlessly for many years to come, unless they were recovered to be properly buried.

He let out a sigh. "These people should have a proper burial."

"I know," Wedge said, "but we can't worry about that know. We need those recordings."

Luke nodded, and they both moved around the bridge and started accessing computer terminals. Some of which still had power, amazingly enough.

"I found it," Luke said as he pressed a few buttons, and video footage of everything that happened when the ships went offline.

They saw video of four Assault Frigates and a couple dozen X-Wings flying in formation. That's when they saw an Imperial Star-Destroyer, using a strange maneuver in which it angled the lower hull away from the New Republic Task Force, which was soon overwhelmed by dozens of Imperial TIE fighters and bombers.

But the images of the Star-Destroyer was still being captured, and the black-box even saw the ship jumping into hyperspace, calculating the trajectory of the ship's light-speed jump, which tracked it heading rim-ward.

"Well, now we know that it was definitely Imperial forces who did this," Wedge said.

"Yeah. But which faction?" Luke asked before he blew up the image of the Star Destroyer.

It was an older Imperial-I class. But it had strange markings on the lower hull. A pair of coiling servant-like creatures.

A Chimaera.

And then it hit them.

"That''s the ISD _Chimaera_." Wedge said. "Flagship of the Imperial Seventh Fleet."

"You know about that ship?" Luke asked.

Wedge nodded. "Yeah. It led the Imperial fleet at the Battle of Antollan, right when the Declaration of Rebellion was issued. Just before the war started. I was there, and so was Hobbie."

"You know anything about its commander?"

Wedge shook his head. "No. And according to Republic Intelligence, the ship itself hasn't been seen much since Endor. They could've joined anyone. If they haven't gone rogue anyway."

Ever since the Battle of Endor and the fragmentation of the Empire, not every Imperial officer or soldier joined a warlord faction, or stayed in the Empire proper. Some went their own way, creating a criminal gang or running slave rings in the outer rim, or even forming drug cartels in Coruscant's underworld. Some Warship captains even became pirates, using their crew as the beginning of a gang.

That couldn't be ruled out.

But why attack a Republic task force? Why now? And Who could be leading it?

"Hmmm," Luke groaned as he held his chin thoughtfully. Then he was sure that he saw more shadows creeping in behind him. He then ignited his lightsaber and slashed at something behind him.

The small spider-like droid that tried to leap at him was cut in two at the main body. Several more droids tried to leap at him but he slashed them apart. Wedge turned around and joined Luke, using his sidearm to blast two more droids to pieces. But then one of them leaped and then latched onto his torso, trying to use it's electro prods to jab Wedge.

"Get this karking thing off of me!" Wedge exclaimed as he grabbed its front legs to try and pry it off.

That's when it was slashed in half by Luke's lightsaber.

Wedge then threw the half he was still holding away. They both began to inspect the droid corpses.

Luke picked one up that was still twitching involuntarily. He began to inspect one. "What kind of droid is this? I've never seen anything like it before."

"It might be one of those Imperial Terror Droids," Wedge said. "They were used by Imperial Spec Ops a while ago. They crawl around a ship, kill the crew and then latch onto critical systems, before self-destructing."

Luke tossed the droid corpse away. "Think there are anymore of them?"

That's when the ship began to rumble, and a muffed boom began to travel throughout the ship.

"Sounds like it," Wedge said.

"Let's get back to the ships," Luke said before he pulled the black-box data file out of the terminal. He then reached for his com-link. "Artoo. We got what we came here for. Prep the ships for take off."

"_Ddddeeeooooowwwwww_!" The droid screamed over the com-link.

"Artoo!" Luke said before his com-link cut out. "We've got to move right now."

Luke and Wedge still had to float around the ship, using the bulkheads to propel them from one section of the corridor to the next. And more explosions began to rip the ship apart.

More terror droids were in their way, and they began to blink red and yellow, signaling that they were about to self-destruct in their way. Luke used the force to push them all away, smashing them against the bulkhead doors, which exploded on impact, clearing their way to the hanger.

But then, a single metal shard hammered Luke's visor, cracking it, and obscuring his view, and causing oxygen to leak out of his suit.

"Oh no!" Luke exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Wedge asked.

"My visor took a hit. I'm leaking air."

"Don't worry, we're almost there."

They both entered the hanger, and saw several terror droids swarming around the X-Wings. The Astromechs were trying to fight them off with their electric pikes to keep the metal spiders off.

Artoo was able to fight keep several droids off, but Wedge's droid, R5-G8, was hacking a hard time.

The droid let out a shrill cry as three terror droids slashed at his head with their sharp legs and electric pikes.

"Gate!" Wedge exclaimed before he fired off a few shots, clearing off his X-Wing.

Luke reached out with the force, lifting all of the droids off of both X-Wings, and then crushing them all like cheep plastic cups.

Both droids whistled a their relief, before both pilots began to climb onto their X-Wings. "We've gotta move right now." Luke said.

"Uh, Luke?" a dumbfounded Wedge said while pointing behind Luke.

He turned around and saw nothing but pure horror.

Dozens of more terror droids began to charge at the X-Wings, their usual orange lights glowing red, signaling their self-destruct sequences. They were threatening to bury both ships in a tidal wave before exploding.

Luke stood up on top of his X-wing and summoned the power of the Force to his side, before gathering all of his energy, and then blasted the driods away with one powerful push, sending every droid flying in every direction, before they exploded against the edges of the hanger.

Then, more explosions began tearing the hanger apart, along with the rest of the hanger.

"Let's get out of here." Luke said, and both pilots powered up their X-Wings, took off, and shot out of the hanger with all of their engine power, leaving behind a brilliant explosion that engulfed the entire frigate, vaporizing what little was left of the ship, and the debris that surrounded it.

* * *

After narrowly escaping the terror droids and the exploding frigate, Luke and Wedge took their fighters to a safe distance away from the destruction, and allowed themselves to drift off after deactivating their engines.

They were going over the footage of the _Chimaera_ jumping into hyperspace after dispatching the Republic fleet.

R2-D2 was analyzing the drifting pattern of the task force's debris field, crossing it with the trajectory of the Chimeara's jump to light speed, and then putting it over an overlay of the entire galaxy.

The ship was heading rim ward.

Luke tracked the path of the Chimeara and checked every planet on the path, until he found the only one that was directly in the path.

"The ship is heading for the planet Wayland." Luke said.

_"Why? It's just a backwater." _Wedge asked_. "There's nothing out there._"

"That we know of." Luke responded as he started looking through the Republic data-bases, which included information from the Imperial data-bases that were preserved after the Liberation of Coruscant. "Remember, the Empire purged a lot of their archives in the Core, when they moved their capital to Orinda. They may have something valuable there that we don't know about."

"_Okay, so what do you want to do?_"

"I'm going to Wayland to find out what they're looking for. I want you to head back and tell Lando and Kalback what we found." Luke said as he tapped a few keys on his control console. "I'm transferring a copy of the data we found to you now."

"Got it." Wedge said. "You sure you know what you're doing? Kalback won't like you going off without the fleet."

"I know, but we've gotta find out what's on Wayland as long as the Chimaera is still there. _If_ it's still there."

"_Roger that, boss. Happy hunting,_" Wedge said before he powered up his engines and flew off in the direction of the _Liberator_.

Luke sighed. He knew that he was going to regret this. "Alright Artoo, set course for Wayland."

A series of beeps and whistles came from Artoo.

"Yes, Artoo, I'm sure this is a bad idea. Just let me worry about the details for now." Luke ordered.

Artoo whistled his concern, a droid equivalent of a sigh, and powered up the hyperdrive before plotting the X-wing's course.

"I really hope this is the right move," Luke said under his breath to the Force, before the stars began to elongate, and the X-Wing shot off into hyperspace.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_New Republic X-Wing AA-589, en route to the Wayland system_.

There was no dreaming in the Jedi hibernation trance. No dreaming, no consciousness, virtually no awareness of the outside world. It was very much like a coma, in fact, except for one interesting anomaly: despite the absence of true consciousness, Luke's time sense still somehow managed to function. He didn't understand it, exactly, but it was something he'd learned to recognize and use.

It was that time sense, coupled with Artoo's frantic gurgling in the foggy distance, that was his first hint something was wrong.

"All right, Artoo, I'm awake," he reassured the droid as he worked his way back toward consciousness. Blinking the gummy feeling out of his eyes, he gave the instruments a quick scan. The readings confirmed what his time sense had already told him: the X-Wing had come out of hyperspace right above Wayland, just short of his intended arrival point. The proximity indicator registered three ships practically on top of him, with a fourth one off to one side in the distance. Still blinking, he raised his head for a look.

And with a rush of adrenaline came fully awake.

Directly ahead of him was an Imperial Star Destroyer, bristling with turbo-lasers and ion cannons, flanked by two Arquitens-class light cruisers. In the distance, Luke could see what it was that had yanked his fighter out of hyperspace: the fourth ship was an Interdictor Cruiser, the Empire's favorite tool for keeping opponents from jumping to lightspeed.

They clearly weren't rogue pirates.

_Anger, fear, aggression - the dark side of the Force do they lead_.

With an effort, Luke forced down his fear.

"_Unidentified starfighter," _a harsh voice boomed from the speaker_. "This is the Imperial Star Destroyer _Chimaera_. Transmit your identification code and state your business_."

Artoo began to whistle and beep frantically.

"No, Artoo, we can't leave. We have to find out what's on this planet." Luke said. "And we can't leave with that Interdictor powered up. "Just find me the edge of that ship's gravity-wave cone. And hang on."

Luke then threw the X-Wing into a stomach-churning downward drop that the acceleration compensator couldn't quite handle, heading straight for the planet below. If the planet was so important, then the Empire would have to be very careful if they were going to fire on Luke, which he wagered they would start doing.

"Unidentified star-fighter." The harsh voice was starting to get angry. "I repeat, transmit your identification code or prepare to be detained."

"Should have brought one of Han's false ID codes with me," Luke muttered to himself, before green pillars of energy flew right past him, slamming into the planet's surface below.

Luke's thoughts were almost drowned out by Artoo's questioning trilling.

"No, I want the deflector shields down," Luke shouted back, "We need the extra speed."

Not like they would work against a Star Destroyer's weapons at this range anyway. He continued flying down into the atmosphere, dodging turbo-laser fire which pierced the clouds below him, and exploded against the mountain ranges that covered this region of the planet.

But then the enemy guns stopped.

They must not have wanted to risk endangering their own forces.

Which meant...

Luke looked at the rear scope, and saw a squadron of TIE-fighters following close behind. And beneath him, on the surface, he saw the mountain ranges below, and saw a silver-white tower jutting up from the side of one of the mountains. And the mountain itself was covered in turbo-laser towers, which all began to train on him.

"All right boys, what're you hiding from us," Luke questioned as he ordered Artoo to start scanning the surface, just as the towers began to fire.

* * *

_Wayland, Emperor's observatory_.

After spending hours stripping the facility of its treasures, Grand Admiral Thrawn, Captain Pellaeon, Starkiller, and Rukh all walked into a conference room, which was housed inside of a mobile command unit.

"You will now tell me," Starkiller said, gesturing to the chairs in the room, "how it was you defeated my attacks earlier."

It's quite simple, actually," Thrawn said, looking up at the ysalamir wrapped around his shoulders, before easing down into a chair. "These creatures you saw on our backs are called ysalamiri. They're sessile tree-dwelling creatures from the planet Myrkr, and they have an interesting, and possibly unique ability - to push back the Force."

Starkiller stared at Thrawn, possibly frowning under his faceplate. "What do you mean, push it back?"

"They push its presence out away fro themselves," Thrawn explained. "Much the same way a bubble is created by air pushing outward against water. A singe creature can occasionally create a bubble as large as ten meters across. A whole group of them reinforcing one another can create much larger ones."

"And let me guess. You planned on using these creatures to take the temple by force if I refused to help you?"

"Not at all. I was merely testing to see if it would work for the purpose that I had in mind." Thrawn explained.

"And what purpose was that?" Starkiller asked.

"To capture Jedi. Specifically the one known as Luke Skywalker."

Starkiller's body language tensed up. He was clearly interested. "The one responsible for the deaths Lord Vader and the Emperor?"

"Yes. And if you agree to help lead us to the planet Byss, I will supply you and your inquisitors with the mean to capture Skywalker, his sister, and her Force-sensitive children. You will be able to add them to your ranks, and serve your purpose."

For a long minute, Starkiller stared at him. "All of them?"

"Indeed," Thrawn said. "If you help our forces, we will defeat the Rebellion, and this galaxy will be ours again."

Starkiller sat down for a while, then he looked back at Thrawn. Slowly, deliberately, he stood back up. "Very well, Grand Admiral Thrawn," he said. "In exchange for assisting your forces in battle, and leading you to a safe path to the Byss system, you will help me capture Skywalker, and any Jedi that still remains . . . on one condition."

"Yes?" Thrawn asked.

"As the late Emperor's Grand Inquisitor, you will start referring to me as _Lord_ Starkiller." He said.

Pellaeon and Rukh both looked at each other, before their eyes rested on the Grand Admiral. The Captain was almost sure he saw Thrawn's jaw clench, an act with was quickly suppressed.

"Very well, _Lord_ Starkiller," Thrawn said, getting to his feet.

"Good," Lord Starkiller said. "Now, bring me to your ship."

As the group walked outside of the command center, walking through the rapidly set up military base to the landing pad, Thrawn's com-link started buzzing.

"This is Thrawn speaking," he said when he answered it.

"_Grand Admiral," _the bridge officer of the Chimaera said,_ "an enemy fighter just exited hyperspace. It's heading for the surface as we speak._"

Thrawn calmly replied. "Activate the Interdictor and jam all long-range communications."

They watched as an X-wing pierced through the clouds above them in distance, followed by several TIE fighters. Green laser blasts from the orbiting ships slammed into the mountains, just away from the edge of the Imperial perimeter.

"Chimaera, hold your fire. We can't risk hitting the facility," Pellaeon ordered.

"_Roger that, Captain. Guns called off,_" Lieutenant Tschel said over the comm.

The X-Wing pilot continued to fly around the mountain, pursued by several TIE fighters, while also dodging flak from the turbo-laser towards that dotted the mountain range. The pilot pulled some incredible moves, which caused two TIE Fighter pilots to crash into one another.

The T-65 then cut the engines, and allowed the TIE to fly right past it, before the Republic pilot reengaged them and rocketed off to pursue his own pursuers. He fired his four blaster cannons and shot down three more fighters.

A sixth one was shot down from friendly turbo-laser fire.

The X-Wing then did a fly-over of the Imperial base, and then circled the mountain several times, still dodging turbo-laser fire, which had died down due to the risk of friendly fire. They were able to catch a quick glimpse of the Starfighter pilot's face and helmet.

"Who is this pilot? How is he causing this much damage?" Pellaeon asked, taken aback.

"Isn't it obvious, Captain?" Thrawn asked. "That pilot is none other than Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight, and poster child of the Rebellion."

"Skywalker!" Starkiller growled. "I want that ship captured."

Thrawn nodded respectfully. "As you wish, _Lord_ Starkiller."

Pellaeon couldn't help but detect a subtle bit of mockery in the Grand Admiral's tone.

"All fighters, break off and return to Chimaera. Turbo-laser batteries, intensify your barrage. Drive that fighter back towards the atmosphere."

* * *

_Luke Skywalker's X-Wing_.

Luke flew his fighter around the base several times, catching a glimpse of the Imperial officers looking at him. But before he could try to identify them, the TIEs broke off, and the turbo-laser fire intensified, shaking up the X-Wing.

"Alright, Artoo, that's enough data collection. Let's get out of here. Did you find the edge of that gravity cone?"

The droid beeped, and a diagram appeared on the computer scope. "That far, huh?" Luke murmured. "Well nothing to do but go for it. Hang on."

Luke kicked the ship to full power, rocketing off over the mountain range to get some cover from the turbo-laser fire, and flying low to the ground. More mountains and wooded areas blossomed with explosions as turbo-laser fire landed all around him. He then pulled back as hard as he could to head back up to the atmosphere.

As he re-entered orbit, Luke threw a quick look at the proximity indicator. He was on the edge of the gravity-wave cone, but still within tractor beam range of the Star-Destroyer, which was on an intercept course.

But if he could stay out of its grasp for just a few seconds, he'd be free to escape to hyperspace.

"Stand by for light speed," he told Artoo. "Don't worry about direction - we can do a short hop and set things up more carefully once we're clear."

Artoo acknowledged-

And without warning, Luke was slammed hard against his harness.

The Star Destroyer's tractor beam had them.

Artoo shrilled in dismay; but Luke had no time to comfort the droid now. His straight-line course had suddenly become an arc, a sort of pseudo-orbit with the Star Destroyer playing the role of planet as its center. Unlike a true orbit, though, this one wasn't stable, and as soon as the Imperials got another beam focused on him, the circle would quickly degenerate into a tight inward spiral. A spiral whose end point would be inside the Star Destroyer's hanger bay.

Luke threw all power, including weapons, into the thrusters, knowing full well it was likely a futile gesture. And he was right - for a second the beam seemed to falter, but it quickly caught back up with him. Such a relatively minor change in speed was too small to foul up the beam's tracking equipment.

But if if he could find a way to arrange a more major change in speed . . .

"_Republic star-fighter." _The harsh voice of the Imperial officer was back, unmistakably gloating this time_. "You have no chance of escape; further efforts will merely damage your vehicle. You are ordered to power down and prepare to dock_."

Luke clenched his teeth. This was going to be dangerous, but he'd run out of choices. And he had heard stories of this working at least once before. Somewhere.

"Artoo, we're going to try something risky," he called to the droid. "On my signal, I want to reverse-trigger the acceleration compensator - full power, and bypass the cutoffs if you have to."

Something warbled from the control panel, and he risked a quick look at the scope. His curving arc had brought him right to the edge of the Interdictor's gravity projection. "Artoo: now."

And with a scream of horribly stressed electronics, the X-wing came to a sudden stop.

There wasn't even enough time for Luke to wonder what aboard his ship could possibly have made a scream like that before he was thrown, even harder this time, against his harness. His thumbs, ready on the firing buttons, jabbed down hard, sending a pair of proton torpedoes lancing forward; simultaneously, he pulled the X-wing upward. The Star Destroyer's tractor beam, tracking him along his path, had momentarily gotten lost be his sudden maneuver. If the computers guiding that lock would now be considerate enough to latch onto the proton torpedoes instead of him-

And suddenly the torpedoes were gone, leaving behind a wisp of their exhaust trail to show that they'd been snatched off their original course. The gamble had succeeded; the Star Destroyer was now steadily pulling in the wrong target.

"We're free!" he snapped to Artoo, throwing full power to the drive. "Get ready for light speed."

The droid thrilled something, but Luke had no time to look down at the computer scope for the translation. Realizing their error, and recognizing there was insufficient time to reestablish a tractor lock, the Imperials had apparently decided to go for a straight kill. All the Star Destroyer's cannons seemed to open up at once, and Luke suddenly found himself trying to dodge a virtual hail storm of laser fire. Forcing himself to relax, he let the Force flow through him, allowing it to guide his hands on the controls the way it did his lightsaber. The ship jumped once as a shot got through; in his peripheral vision he saw the tip of his dorsal/starboard cannon flash and disappear into a cloud of superheated plasma. A near miss burned past overhead; another, closer, scorched a line across the transparisteel canopy.

Another warble came from the scope: they were clear of the Interdictor's gravity shadow.

"Go!" Luke shouted to Artoo.

And with a second, even more nerve-wrenching electronic scream from behind him, the sky ahead abruptly turned to star-lines.

They'd made it.

* * *

_ISD Chimaera_.

For what seemed like a small eternity, Thrawn and Starkiller gazed out the viewport of the shuttle, as it came in for a landing aboard the _Chimaera_. They were staring at the spot where Skywalker's X-wing had been when it had vanished. Superstitiously, Pellaeon watched them, wondering tautly when the inevitable explosion would come. With half an ear he listened to the damage control reports coming fro the Number Four tractor beam projector, carefully not getting himself involved with the cleanup.

The destruction of one of the Chimaera's ten projectors was a relatively minor loss. Skywalker's escape was not.

Starkiller slammed his fist against the bulkhead, which frightened some of the shuttle crew, and stepped off of the ship when it touched down.

Thrawn stirred and turned around.

Pellaeon tensed- "Come with me, Captain," the Grand Admiral said quietly, striding away down ramp, and over to the elevator at the back of the hanger, where Starkiller was heading.

"YEs Sir," Pellaeon said quietly.

The elevator ride for them was tense the whole way up, with only Starkiller's breathing breaking the silence. "Someone has to pay for this, Admiral," he said as he looked Thrawn dead in the eye.

Thrawn continued to look forward, ignoring the Dark Lord. "Patience, _Lord_ Starkiller."

When the elevator stopped, the doors parted with a hiss.

Starkiller then began striding down the bridge command walkway, with Pellaeon and Thrawn in tow.

"Who is responsible for allowing Skywalker to escape?" Starkiller asked.

The bridge was uncommonly quiet in response to the question. They were all afraid to answer. The stories of how Darth Vader had dealt with failures ran through their minds.

"Answer me!" He shouted as he ignited his lightsaber and slashed it through a computer terminal below him in the port-side crew pit. Sparks flew onto the crewmen, who all flinched, or jumped away.

But then, Thrawn, who still had a Ysalamiri on his shoulders, grabbed Starkiler's wrist. The two of them stared at each other for several seconds, a helmet vs pupil-less red eyes. Eventually, Starkiller stayed his hand, and deactivated his saber.

Thrawn then went over to the aft stairway and descended into the starboard crew pit. He walked past the crewmen at their consoles, past the officers standing painfully erect behind him, and came to a halt at the control station for the starboard tractor beams.

"Your name," he said, his voice excruciatingly calm.

"Cris Pieterson, sir," the young man seated at the console answered, his eyes wary.

"You were in charge of the tractor beam during our engagement with the X-wing starfighter." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, sir - but what happened wasn't my fault."

Thrawn's eyebrows arched, just a bit. "Explain."

Pieterson started to gesture to the side, changed his mind mid-motion. "The target did something with his acceleration compensator that killed his velocity vector-"

"I'm aware of the facts," Thrawn cut in. "I'm waiting to hear why his escape wasn't your fault."

"I was never properly trained for such an occurrence, sir," Pieterson said, a flicker of defiance touching his eyes. "The computer lost the lock, but seemed to pick it up again right away. There was no way for me to know it had really picked up something else until-"

"Until the proton torpedoes detonated against the projector?"

Pieterson held his gaze evenly. "Yes, sir."

For a long moment Thrawn studied him. "Who is your officer?" he asked at last.

Pieterson's eyes shifted to the right. "Ensign Colclazure, sir."

Slowly, deliberately, Thrawn turned to the tall man standing rigidly at attention with his back to the walkway. "You are in charge of this man?"

"Colclazure swallowed visibly. "Yes, sir," he said.

"Was his training also your responsibility?"

"Yes, sir," Colclazure said again.

"Did you, during that training, run through any scenarios similar to what just happened?"

"I . . . don't remember, sir," the ensign admitted. "The standard training package _does_ include scenarios concerning loss of lock and subsequent reestablishment confirmation."

Thrawn threw a brief glance back at Pieterson. "Did you recruit him as well, Ensign?"

"No, sir. He was a conscript."

"Does that make him less worthy of your training time than a normal enlistee?"

"No, sir." Colclazure's eyes flicked to Pieterson. "I've always tried to treat my subordinates equally."

"I see." Thrawn considered a moment, then half turned to look past Pellaeon's shoulder. "Lord Starkiller."

The Dark Lord brushed past the Captain; he hadn't even realized that he had followed them down. Thrawn waited until Starkiller was standing at his side, then turned back to Colclazure. "Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake, Ensign?"

The entire bridge had gone deathly still. Colclazure swallowed again, his face starting to go pale. "No, Sir."

"Anyone can make an error, Ensign. But that error doesn't become a mistake until you refuse to correct it." He raised a finger-

And, almost lazily, pointed.

Pellaeon never even saw Starkiller move, or heard Pieterson scream. All he saw was a flash of red light.

Further down the crew pit came the sound of someone trying valiantly not to be sick. Thrawn glanced over Pellaeon's shoulder again and gestured, and the silence was further broken by the sound of a pair of stormtroopers coming forward. "Dispose of it," the Grand Admiral ordered them, turning away from Pieterson's crumpled, headless body, and pinning Colclazure with a stare. "The error, Ensign," he told him softly, "has now been corrected. You may begin training a replacement."

Starkiller left the bridge right after that, heading for the Imperial Stealth frigate that was docked in the hanger, leaving the rest of the crew to deal with the aftermath of his wrath.

Thrawn held Colclazure's eyes another heartbeat. Then, seemingly oblivious to the tension around him, he turned to Pellaeon. "I want a full technical/tactical readout on the last few seconds of that encounter, Captain," he said, all calm business again. "I'm particularly interested in his light speed vector."

"I have it all here, sir," a lieutenant spoke up a bit hesitantly, stepping forward to offer the Grand Admiral a data pad.

"Thank you." Thrawn glanced at it briefly, handed it to Pellaeon. "We'll have him, Captain," he said, starting back down the crew pit toward the stairway. "Very soon now, we'll have him."

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon agreed cautiously, hurrying to catch up with Thrawn. "I'm sure it's just a matter of time."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. "You misunderstand me," he said mildly. "I mean that literally. he's out there right now, not very far away. And-" e smiled slyly at Pellaeon "-he needs help."

Pellaeon frowned. "I don't understand, sir."

"That maneuver he used has an interesting side effect I suspect he didn't know about," the Grand Admiral explained. "Backfiring an acceleration compensator like that does severe damage to the adjoining hyperdrive. A few light-years away, no farther, and it will fail completely. All we have to do is make a search along that vector, and we'll have him. You follow?"

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon said. "Shall I contact the rest of the fleet to capture him?"

"Capture him?" Thrawn shook his head. "We won't be capturing him. We'll be watching him."

"Sir?" Pellaeon asked.

"Luke Skywalker is apart of the Rebellion's new Rapid Response Task Force, filled with the their best and brightest. Why just capture him when we can follow him to the rest of their fleet?" Thrown explained. "Deploy our stealth ship to the region, and have them watch Skywalker's every move."

"Yes, sir." Pellaeon said. "And what will we be dong?"

"Preparing for the next phase of Operation Cinder. We will start deploying our secret weapons to the planet Mon Calamari. Drawing out the enemy fleet and destroying the rebellion's muscle is the fleet's top priority at the moment. Send Starkiller the hyperspace vector. We'll allow him to deal with Skywalker and the rebellion's best."

Pellaeon nodded. Then he glanced down at the crew pit, at the activity still going on around the tractor beam station. "Sir, if you knew that Skywalker's escape was only temporary . . . ?"

"We are at war, Captain, and this is the Empire's most desperate hour," the Grand Admiral said, his voice cold. "We cannot afford the luxury of men whose minds are so limited they cannot adapt to unexpected situation."

He looked significantly at Starkiller through the bridge security feed, then turned those glowing eyes back on Pellaeon. "Carry out your orders, Captain. Skywalker and his friends _will_ be ours. Alive . . . or otherwise."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Well folks, that was part 5 of this story**

**Part 6 will be dropped ASAP.**

**Until then, Grubkiller out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Have no fear, Grubkiller is here.**

**Hey folks, this is part 6 of this story.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Dac City Royal Palace, Mon Cala_.

Han and Leia both stepped off of the Falcon and onto the platform, which led two one of many aquatic buildings which stood high above Mon Cala's oceans. The recently married couple were then met by a squad of Mon Calamari guards, who were led by a single Mon Calamari military officer.

"Princess Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic Senate, and Captain Solo. On behalf of his Royal Majesty, King Lee-Char, welcome to Mon Cala." The officer said before giving a slight bow.

"Thank you, Colonel Ackbar. It's my pleasure to visit Mon Cala in these troubled times. But if you don't mind, I would like to skip the formalities." Leia said.

"Very well," The officer said before he stepped closer and outstretched his arms to give Leia a hug, which she returned.

"It's good to see you, Aftab. You've grown so much since I last saw you." Leia said, before the hug was ended. "And you're following in your father's footsteps, I see."

"Oh yes, and it's good to see you as well, your highness. Though I wish I could say the same for _all_ of us. What brings you to these troubled waters?"

"We came here for a goodwill tour of Mon Cala, and an audience with the King, and the rest of the Mon Cala leadership. We want to let them know that we're with them no matter what." Leia said. "And when we get the chance, I would like to try and honor some fallen heroes."

"Very well. We'll honor the past first." Aftab said as he began to lead them into the building.

As they followed, Han spoke up. "Why not just meet with the King, right now?"

"I'm afraid that his majesty has yet to return from the front." Aftab explained. "He is making an inspection of the city's defenses, against his advisor's wishes."

"Hmph, I'm glad to see that the King hasn't changed much." Leia said.

* * *

_The Mourning Shrines of Mon Cala_.

Leia donned a wetsuit that accentuated her body quite well in all its womanly glory, before putting on a diving helmet, a pair of flippers, and an oxygen tank. She then dove into the water, followed by Aftab and a pair of royal guardsmen.

Just beneath the surface the seas surrounding Dac City was a series of statues that were underwater, built in dedication to Mon Cala's fallen heroes. But there was only one that Leia came here to visit.

The statue of Admiral Raddus stood tall, its facial features matching the aggressive and blunt nature. He led one of the first rebellions against the Empire, and it was arguably because of his actions at the battle of Scarif, and ultimate sacrifice, that helped the Rebellion even have a chance of destroying the Death Star, and thus rallying even more of his species to their cause, supplying the rebellion with warships that could match even the Empire's mighty Star Destroyers.

Leia stood in front of the statue, before swimming up to it, and placing her hand on the statue's face.

"We'll never forget your sacrifice, old friend. The galaxy knows freedom because of it."

She then swam away and began to head back to the surface, a single tear shed from her eye, and ran down her cheek.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Royal Palace, Dac City, Mon Cala_.

Han Solo stretched back far enough in his chair in the King's Throne Room that when he laced his fingers together behind his head, he had to jam one up under the railing in front of him to keep from toppling over. He stared at the ceiling, which was made of some luminescent algae that lit up the room. He then wondered, for the three of four hundredth time that day, if it was possible to die of boredom.

Han decided, as he had all the other times, that if such a thing were possible he would have bumped off at least two hours ago. If there was anything in the galaxy he hated more than stirring around in a room for hours on end with nothing to do but listen to people yap, it had to be sitting around in a room for hours with nothing to do except listen to _fish_ people yap.

The main consideration that stopped him from engaging in catastrophic throne room-remodeling was the presence beside him of the New Republic's chief negotiator, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that Han couldn't even glance her way without feeling his heart begin to pound.

She was not only beautiful, but brilliant and fiercely courageous, and she had done only one really foolish thing in her life: a couple of years had let herself fall in love with a dashing-but-impoverished tramp-freighter captain - well, okay, a disreputable smuggler on the run from Imperials, bounty hunters, and crime lords, but who was counting? - and she fathered his two beautiful twin children.

Jacen and Jaina.

Han could never shake this lurking dread that if he, say, did something naughty like discreetly take her to a quiet place and turn this into an M-rated story, the New Republic might suddenly realize what a mistake it might be to keep allowing him to be Leia's "bodyguard."

But he was too good to allow that.

Almost, anyway.

Han then went back to listening to Leia's speech, all while his majesty, King Lee-Char, sat on his throne of coral, which had a 360 degree view of the entire city around him, where all of his subjects adored him, from the beginning of his tumultuous ascent in the Clone Wars through to his defiant stand against the Empire.

"Of all the great sacrifices made to restore freedom to the galaxy, none have contributed more than the people of Mon Cala. It is because of your courage that the galaxy does indeed know what it's like to breath the air of freedom..."

Han could never shake this lurking dread that if he, say, did something naughty like discreetly take her to a quiet place and turn this into an M-rated story, the New Republic might suddenly realize what a mistake it might be to keep allowing him to be Leia's "bodyguard."

But he was too good to allow that.

Almost, anyway.

Leia continued.

"...I understand that some within this chamber believe that Mon Cala has done too much, and that the sacrifice was far too high." She said, looking in the direction of Nossor Ri, and his fellow Quarren, who were apart of the more isolationist faction. "And they may be right. But freedom is not, and has never been free. Great people sacrifice so much that they're future generations may live in peace. As a citizen of Alderaan, I understand this just as well as anyone. Which is why we must always remain united in our cause to preserve the Republic, and the freedom of the galaxy. And that is why we are here, to reaffirm the special bond shared between the people of Mon Cala, and the New Republic."

Many people in the chamber stood up and started to clap.

Even Nossor Ri's allies had to clap at that.

Leia looked around at the people in the seats around her, and caught Han's look.

The two then shared a smile that warmed their hearts to no end.

But then the smile disappeared when Han noticed Leia start to wince. And with her speech finished, she went to go sit back down next to him, before she put a hand on his arm to draw him close, and leaned toward him to whisper in his ear; he actually more than half expected that she was about to chastise him for something because... well, women.

Instead, she muttered in a voice stretched thin with tension, "Han, Luke's in trouble."

Han's feet bumped back down on the floor. "What?"

Leia gave her head that little shake, one Han knew so well, barely more than a lip-compressed shiver that signaled _I don't know why, but I don't like this at all_. "It's a... feeling. He might-"

"Hey, I worry about him too, but-" Han laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He can take care of himself, you know? The stuff he can do . . ."

His voice trailed off as he felt the knots of tension in her shoulder; instead of him giving her comfort, she was giving him dread. A dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth that told Han she was biting the inside of her lower lip.

"Come on, this is Luke '_I-Must-Face-Vader-and-Palpatine-Alone'_ Skywalker, that we're talking about, right?" Han thought it was a pretty good line, but it sounded hollow, even to him. He forged on. "How much trouble could he possibly be in?"

"I - I don't know, Han!" The twist of uncertainty at the corners of her eyes brought a similar twist to Han's heart. "If I knew, I wouldn't even have mentioned it - or else we'd be on our way already."

Excuse me, please - I beg your pardon most awfully, Princess-" C-3PO leaned in between them. "Though my vocabulary filter and voice-stress analysis subprogram suggest that your conversation is very likely private, the Quarrens are becoming restive, and are about to start speaking. Some of them may need a translation."

"Ask the Quarrens if they need you to translate _this_-" Han began, but the gesture he'd been referring to was interrupted by Leia's astonishingly strong grip on his arm.

"Han, I have to be here. Can you just - just find out? Try the Falcon's comms array and try calling Luke. His fleet will be in subspace contact. Just - make sure he's all right. And tell him to be careful." Her urgent whisper dropped to a barely audible hush. "Tell him I have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

_Home One, Mon Cala Orbit_.

Meanwhile, high above Dac City, in the planet's orbit, New Republic warships under Admiral Ackbar continued to pound away at the Imperial warships that were once terrorizing the people of Mon Cala, and who were now being terrorized themselves by the hornet's nest they kept kicking.

Mon Cala Star cruisers were the pride of the New Republic fleet. Their heavy shields and thick armor allowed them to go toe-to-toe with the Empire's feared Star Destroyers, making them legendary. When one showed up above your planet, the people knew that they were shielded by the best the New Republic had to offer.

Admiral Ackbar, brilliant tactician and well-established war hero, sat back and watched as his ships drove the Imperial fleet back, allowing fighters and transports to deploy to the surface.

"Sir, the Imperials are falling back." One of his officers called out. "Their forces are evacuating from the surface, and their ships are pulling back from the atmosphere."

A torrent of cheers erupted on the bridge, as officers and crewmen celebrated their victory.

"Excellent. Regroup the fleet into a defensive formation above the planet. We'll begin conducting mop-up operations and open up a corridor for relief supplies to-" Ackbar began, before he was suddenly cut off by someone manning the sensor relay.

"Admiral. More contacts are coming out of hyperspace."

No sooner had the crewman said that than many dozens of Imperial warships began to pour out of hyperspace. At least a couple dozen Star Destroyers, with many support ships and escorting cruisers. But there was a new type of ship that caught everyone's attention. They looked like a pair of massive boxes, easily 6 times the size of the Star Destroyers. At first, Ackbar thought they were ore crawlers. But when they started taking forming up in front of the Imperial fleet, Ackbar knew that weren't just here to excavate.

"All batteries, target those larger ships. Maximum barrage."

On Ackbar's orders, every cannon in the fleet, ranging from turbo-lasers to proton torpedo launchers, cut loose with a massive barrage that would have ripped apart most ships. But these new boxy behemoths just shrugged them off like they were a minor nuisance.

* * *

_Silencer-7, Imperial Devastator_.

In the lead devastator, Admiral Klev watched with satisfaction as the new weapons at his disposal continued to power towards the Republic fleet, which continued to desperately try and stop them.

Republic X-wings, B-wings, and Y-wings, their pilot's skills honed by years of relentless warfare, swooped unerringly toward the deadly Imperial Devastators, and began conducting strafing runs on the hull. It was all in vain, however.

An officer walked up to Admiral Klev. "Admiral, we've just done a thorough scan of our own hulls. The Republic has yet to breach the hull. They haven't the **slightest** chance of breaching our defenses."

Klev smiled. "Very good. They can hardly realize the destructive power at our command. The Rebellion's false sense of superiority... is **over**." He then turned away from the viewport and looked at his XO. "Send a message to Lord Starkiller and Grand Admiral Thrawn. Inform that we've made contact with the enemy, and are ready to beam footage of our progress to them... and the rest of the galaxy. We'll give the rebels a taste of what they're up against, and any world that dares to oppose us!"

* * *

_Home One_.

Ackbar watched as his fleet continued to unleash a hailstorm of turbo-laser fire onto the new Imperial weapons, only to wince in horror as the lasers barely scratched the armor.

"Sir, those new ships are heading straight for our battle line." One crewman said.

Ackbar turned his command chair towards the gunnery stations. "Gunners, target all weapons systems on that approaching star-ship!"

Slowly, every turbo-laser battery and turret turned to face the lead Imperial star-ship, and unleashed their arsenal. Hundreds of laser blasts slammed into the star-ship, causing explosions to blossom across the hull. But the ship kept coming, making a b-line for the nearest Republic star cruiser.

A frantic message from that cruiser was transmitted to every ship in the Republic fleet, and the bridge crew of Home One received it.

"_Home One, this is the Defiance! We're in trouble! That starship is heading straight at us-_"

The Imperial ship hovered right above the _Defiance_, and it's lower hull opened up, revealing the ship's internal structure. It looked like some kind of powerful tractor beam. This suspicion was soon confirmed as the bow of the evading Republic star-cruiser was soon swallowed by the massive Imperial behemoth. The bow started to dissolve, and the rest of the ship started to follow.

"Defiance, fire all forward batteries!" Ackbar barked.

"We can't sir!" The _Defiance_'s CO said via hologram. "Our forward weapons systems have just been swallowed by that monster!"

Suddenly, a powerful explosion ripped through the Defiance amidships.

The _Defiance_ CO's hologram disappeared after a short, yet horrifying scream.

Ackbar and his crew watched in horror as the _Defiance_ and many other warships were suddenly turned into expensive meals by these devastating new Imperial weapons.

"Take evasive action!" Ackbar ordered.

The crew lurched as their ship took a hard turn to port away from the massive star-ship eaters. Many other ships did the same, and soon, the once powerful Republic battle-line was a jumbled and confusing mess of aimlessly drifting ships, which desperately tried to avoid doomed fate of their comrades.

But that wasn't even the worst of it.

The massive ship-eaters began to head for the surface, while the trailing Star Destroyers unleashed their firepower onto the disorganized Republic warships and the ocean-world's few remaining orbital stations.

Ackbar watched as his fleet was shoved aside like they were toys, and his crew was stunned silent as they heard the awful jumble of confusing transmissions coming from the surface.

Distress calls.

Hundreds of them.

Maybe thousands.

"Sir, Imperial forces have reformed their blockade, and are attacking the surface with those new ship-killers."

"Reform this battle line. All fighters, prepare to attack those monster ships. We're not out of this fight yet."

The crew got straight back to work, and the Republic Star Cruisers formed up on _Home One_, before slowly pushing back towards Mon Cala. But as the battle unfolded, and Republic forces struggled to break through the Imperial blockade, Ackbar couldn't help but think to himself, '_Things haven't been this bad for us since Vader was alive._' Ackbar thought to himself.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Imperial Stealth Ship, Obroa-Skai system_.

Out in the Mid-Rim, just near the border between New Republic and Imperial space, a lone probe droid watched as a seemingly dead X-Wing was towed back into a large Imperial Star Destroyer.

Or rather, a New Republic Star Destroyer, captured long ago over the planet Endor.

The footage the lone droid captured was then beamed back to a nearby Imperial stealth ship, which was hundreds of thousands of miles away.

"So that's how Imperial warlords have been fighting one another. The Rebels are using captured warships to attack our supply lines. Then warlords attack each other thinking that they're Imperial ships."

The commander seemed to ignore what his ensign was reporting to him.

"Place a tracker on that destroyer. And inform Grand Admiral Thrawn that we have found their precious Rapid Reaction Force." He ordered.

The ensign nodded, and his fingers danced across the console in front of him, causing the probe droid that they were controlling to shoot a small device in the direction of the Star Destroyer. It successfully attached to the hull and unfolded like a metal flower, blooming. It flashed red and blue, sending its signal across the galaxy, to any Imperial forces that were actively searching for it.

* * *

_RSD Liberator_.

In the briefing room of the Liberator, in the back of the bridge, Luke Skywalker was giving a briefing to all of his officers, including Kalback and Lando Calrissian. Wedge was also there, as he was the one who accompanied him aboard the derelict Republic warships.

He stood before a hologram of the planet Wayland.

"Alright everyone, as you already know, Imperial forces have been launching massive raids in the borderlands, but we haven't been able to find anything. But we may have found a clue as to what they've been looking for. Or rather, what they want to keep us from looking for."

Luke made a gesture to the holo-table technician, who pressed several buttons that changed the image. The image zoomed in on the planet, which now showed several Imperial warships in orbit above the planet.

"This is Wayland, a primitive back-water planet on the southern edge Outer Rim territories, just off the Hydian Way. Also just over the Imperial side of the border, hence the Imperial Star Destroyers."

Luke gestured again, and the image was replaced by the large tower he flew over in the Tantis Mountains on the planet's surface. It was now surrounded by Imperial turbo-laser towers, and the mountain was dotted with small Imperial outposts, with many more likely inside of the mountain.

"The tower that we found doesn't appear in any of the Imperial archives that we captured when we liberated Coruscant. But the Empire seems to think that its important."

A human officer with a small gray beard and gray buzz cut hair raised a hand. He wore a gray-blue jumpsuit, dark gray torso armor, and a blue pauldron around his shoulders.

"Yes Commander Rex?" Luke asked.

"General Skywalker, if I may ask, how do we know that it's the Imperial Ruling Council on Orinda, and not just some random warlord?"

"Good question." Luke said before the holo-image was replaced by three figures.

Imperial Captain, human.

A cloaked figure with a gold-plated helmet and a lightsaber, humanoid.

And lastly, an Imperial officer wearing the all-white uniform of a Grand Admiral. But he wasn't human like most Imperial officers. He had blue skin, and red pupil-less eyes.

"The first man you see is Captain Pellaeon, commanding officer of the ISD Chimaera. He took command of Death Squadron after the battle of Endor. But we know very little about him after the battle of Jakku and the liberation of Coruscant. The second person in the image is a Force-user, judging by the lightsaber attached to his belt. But I don't know about the last guy in the image."

"We do," Wedge said as he and Rex stepped forward. "It's Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Everyone went dead quiet. Even some of the bridge crew who weren't even apart of the briefing turned around when that name was uttered.

Rex pointed at Thrawn's holo-image. "This guy is one of the Empire's best officers, and is extremely intelligent. During the Clone Wars, he did some liaison work between the Chiss Ascendancy and the Republic military. Me and General Anakin Skywalker were deployed near the edges of the Unknown Regions to search for the outbound flight, and to destroy a Cortosis mine out there. But we were caught by the Separatists. But with Thrawn's brilliant thinking, we destroyed an entire clanker task force with just three ships."

Then Wedge spoke. "Years after that, General Syndulla led a bombing raid on the planet Lothal. Rex was apart of the ground operation to take out their AA, and I was apart of the air operation. Thrawn was on the planet, using it as the HQ for all Imperial naval operations in the region, as they struck rebel targets in the Outer Rim. It was also the planet where the Empire's TIE Defender program was in development. Our entire force was nearly wiped out. We barely made it out of there in one piece. But after that, according to one of our Fulcrum agents, Thrawn's TIE Defender program was shut down, and he was re-deployed to the Unknown Regions. We have no idea why he went there."

"And now he's back?" Luke asked.

"Yes sir." Rex said. "This all but confirms your suspicion."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Admiral Kalback asked. "Let's take our fleet to Wayland, and make sure they can't use whatever's under there."

Several officers nodded.

But then Luke spoke up. "Now, just wait a second Admiral, but if Thrawn is half as good as he sounds, then maybe we should take time to plan this out."

Kalback went to size Luke up. "Why? We have a powerful fleet, and we know their defenses. We can take out a couple Star Destroyers, and wipe out the enemy's ground defenses without demolishing a single pebble on that mountain."

"Maybe, but what if we're walking into a trap? What if they have even more defenses deployed since my recon mission?" Luke asked. "What we need is stealth. Scout out the mountain base and map out the defenses."

They can't have deployed that many forces to Wayland in just under a day. And besides, a large part of their fleet is tied up at Mon Cala."

"But so is ours." Luke said. "And we're still in the middle of a ceasefire with the Empire. We need to go to the Senate first before we violate the treaty."

"Skywalker, the Empire _already_ violated the treaty. And we can't just sit here waiting for those paper pushers to vote on every military engagement we conduct, we need to take initiative. But I understand. You're young. Perhaps you don't understand yet what needs to be done to win a war."

"I will not have you undermine my authority in front of these men." Luke snapped.

Then Lando stepped in between them, placing his hand on both of their shoulders. "Alright, come on guys, I think we all need to calm down here. We're all on the same team here."

The two officers both locked eyes for a few more seconds before breaking off. Luke was more reserved, trying to keep his emotions in check, while Kalback was visibly angry, but bottling up his emotions even harder.

And just as Luke stepped back, he winced, as a tremor in the force appeared, causing him to hold his forehead.

"What's wrong Luke?" Lando asked.

"I . . . I sense something. A tremor in the force." Luke said, as everyone looked at him with concern. "Like, someone's in danger."

Suddenly, the alarms went off, and everyone went straight back to their stations in response.

"Sirs, we're receiving a distress signal from the Mon Cala system." A young female officer said.

"But Ackbar's fleet is already out there? Surely he can handle it?" Kalback asked.

"Sir, it was Ackbar's flagship that sent the distress call."

Everyone looked at each other, then they looked back at the young officer.

"The fleet's being ripped apart."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Millennium Falcon, parked just outside the Royal Palace_.

Han trotted across the large coral-bedected landing pad that they landed on earlier.

When he reached the _Falcon_, the shadow of her starboard mandible was littered with a bewildering array of components in various states of disrepair and disassembly, most of which - to his sadly all-too-expierenced eye - appeared to belong to the control assembly of her starboard deflector unit.

The party responsible for this wanton destruction of property was currently standing down to his knees in the proximal access hatch. All that could be seen of him was a pair of vast russet-shagged feet on top of a coffin-sized toolbox that rested on a rusty, battered scrap of scaffolding that looked like it had once been some kind of picnic table, while the rest of his vast hairy body was jammed way up into the innards of Han's ship.

"Chewie - hey, _Chewie_!"

The feet gave back no reaction, which was no surprise. The screech of Star-fighter engines and the sounds of turboloasers lighting up the skies around the main palace were so loud Han could barely hear himself.

Han activated his comm, and spoke into it as loudly as he could.

"CHEWIE!"

From deep within the access hatch came a thump Han could feel through the hull - Chewbacca's head was fully hard enough to dent durasteel - and a brief but heartfelt snarl of Wookiee expletive, which would be enough to erode the confidence of almost any human being in the galaxy.

Almost.

"Get the ship zipped and clipped," Han said. "I'll start the launch sequence. Skids up in ten."

Chewie slipped down from inside the Falcon, rubbing his head, before he grumbled a war interrogative.

Han said, "No, no, no, nothing like that. Nobody's after us, believe it or not."

"_Garouf?_"

"It's ... an errand, that's all. We need to, uh, drop in on Luke and Lando. Pay them a little visit. A, ah, social call."

Chewie barked another query.

"Leia thinks that Luke might be in trouble. His whole task force has gone dark, and she's got a really bad feeling about this."

That's when a massive boom resonated across the ocean behind them. Han turned around and saw flaming objects falling into the ocean from orbit. A quick glance revealed them to be pieces of New Republic warships.

A dumbfounded Han then noticed massive blocky starships descending through the clouds, and heading straight for the city. It hovered over a nearby island with several buildings. Hundreds of blue laser blasts started to pepper the blocky ship's hull, which ignored them. Then, its forward section unleashed a powerful eruption of flames that washed over the small island-city, vaporizing everything that stood. Then, it's rear section began to suck everything back up with its powerful tractor beams.

And then the small city was gone, leaving behind a naked island with no signs of the settlement that occupied it.

And now the massive city-eater was heading straight for them.

Klaxons blared all across the city, and Mon Calamari and Quarren soldiers manned their stations, opening fire on the massive approaching vessel. But their efforts were soon in vain, as the ship got closer and closer, opening up its massive furnace to attack again.

"_Howergh_?" Chewie asked.

Well," Han made a face, "Now I have a bad feeling about this," he said, and vanished up the _Falcon_'s boarding ramp.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Mon Cala, Dac City palace, throne room_.

Leia watched in muted horror as the defensive platforms that surrounded the city were vaporized and then devoured by the massive Imperial war machines. As she looked out the window, she didn't notice Colonel Aftab Ackbar walk up to her, startling her.

"Apologizes, your Highness, but the King wishes for me to ensure that you make it off world to safety."

She looked passed him at King Lee-Char, who was deep in conversation with Nossor Ri and his royal guards. "But what about the King? We can't just leave him here."

"His Majesty will not abandon his people in this time of crisis. But you needn't worry. The surface cities are merely a fraction of our civilization. We will move to the oceans and force the Empire to engage us on our terms. And with your Republic fleet already here, the siege can't last forever."

Leia reluctantly nodded. "Come on, Threepio."

The protocol droid, after muttering '_oh dear, oh dear_', hurried behind her and Aftab, and they walked through the palace and eventually made it to the Falcon's platform.

She could already see Han waving them along. She smiled. But her joy quickly disappeared when she noticed that massive city-eater heading straight for the palace. But before she could hurry along, a B-Wing was heading straight for them, on fire, and being chased by three TIE fighters.

"Look out!" She shouted before she pushed Aftab back inside the doorframe, and into the palace, before the B-wing hit the top of the Falcon, bounced off, and skidded across the landing pad, before smashing into the palace. The explosion knocked her, and Aftab's men to the ground.

The exit was also blocked by debris.

"HELP! I've been buried alive!" Threepio wailed.

As Aftab and one of his men helped dig out Threepio, Leia's comm-link went off.

"_Leia? Leia!" _Han shouted_. "Talk to me. Are you alright?!_"

Leia coughed and waved away the dust and smoke. "I'm fine Han. But we can't get to you. I need you to take off."

"_Not without you,_" he said.

She peaked through the debris and saw the city being devoured by the monster Imperial ship. And the massive wall of fire that belched from the ship's furnace was getting closer to the palace, and by extension, the _Falcon_.

"There's no time to argue. I'll go with the Calamari. Get out of here, find Luke, and save this planet, before it's too late."

Leia watched the Falcon take off, just before the landing pad was burned and devoured by the ship.

She smiled, knowing that the father of her children was safe. Then she was urged along by Aftab. "We don't have much time. Get to the submersibles!"

They all ran through the palace, as the wall of fire began to vaporize the building, until they were able to find the submersibles that Aftab was talking about. Underwater speeders that resembled large fish.

Aftab, Leia, and Threepio, and a Quarren soldier entered one, while the rest of Aftab's men split up into the other three. That's when the entire building was vaporized, and the surrounding infrastructure was sucked up, along with two of the submarines.

Leia could hear a brief scream over the comm as those poor souls were devoured.

"Hit it!" Aftab ordered the Quarren soldier, who hit a release button, which dropped them into the ocean, where they started to descend to the depths of Mon Cala's ocean.

Leia breathed a sigh of relief. But she continued to feel cold, as she felt something ominous and foreboding in the Force. She couldn't tell what it was, but all she could think to herself was that the worst was yet to come.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Well folks, that was part 6.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Part 7'll be up as soon as possible.**

**Until then, Grubkiller out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey folks, Grubkiller here.**

**Sorry that it's been a ****while. But between work and school, I've had literally no time to work on these stories. But with school over. I should have more time.**

**This is part 7 of this story.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Millennium Falcon_.

Han Solo flew his beloved Falcon through the burning ruins of Dac City, which were being swallowed up by the massive behemoth above them.

"Grrraawwrrr!"

"Don't be ridiculous. "Han said. "This isn't the worst day of our lives. We've just gotta get Luke and some reinforcements, and this'll all turn out fine."

As they flew out of the ruins, the World Devastator seemed to respond to their flight, and opened up a massive section of the ship.

"What're they doing now?" Han asked.

Chewie only shrugged and made a soft groan.

That's when hundreds of objects flew out of the hanger section of the massive city-eater. They looked like TIE fighters, only their wings were more horizontal and rectangular. Han then noticed that they didn't have cockpits, which meant that they were fully automated.

"I take it back Chewie. Maybe this _is_ the worst day of our lives." Han said before he turned the ship away, just as a half dozen TIE droids went after them.

* * *

High above, in the skies of Mon Cala, Captain Tycho Celchu, and his wingman were lining up desperate deflection shots at an oncoming formation of six TIE droids when an ancient, battered YT-1300 freighter suddenly arrived in the middle of their dogfight, blocking those last-ditch shots.

"What the Hell was that?" Tycho's wingman demanded.

Tycho himself watched in awe as the freighter used its sub-light engines as weapons to blast a pair of TIE droids off course, and smash into the rocky mountains that jutted out of the sea. The freighter then turned around and flew headlong into the remaining four, which began to open fire.

The freighter began barrel-rolling through the storm of laser fire while unleashing a salvo of concussion missiles, dusting the remaining four.

"_Chewie, we need those deflectors! We really, really do!_" Someone said on an open channel.

Rogue Squadron's section commander then realized who was flying that piece of junk, which was immediately surrounded by even more TIE droids.

"Alright, on me Rogues. We've got some pilots that need saving."

The five other pilots of Rogue Squadron formed up on Tycho. They then swooped down out of the sun and blasted the enemy fighters to dust.

"Falcon, this is Rogue Nine. Your back's clear."

"_Good Morning. Nice of you thrill-monkeys to drop by_." Han said over the comm. Tchyo then heard in the background, "Chewy, I smell smoke. Why am I smelling smoke?"

Tycho just smiled. "Form up on us, _Falcon_. We're breaking off from this engagement. The Calamari need our help."

"_What kind of help?" _Han asked, as the Falcon formed up on the retreating Republic fighters_. "Can't we get the fleet down here?_"

"The Imperials are jamming our transmissions with the fleet. We're on our own down here, until we can get comms back."

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

"Just follow our lead."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Mon Cala City, below the surface_.

Deep below the surface, In Mon Cala City, Calamari and Quarren troops alike rushed off to their stations as they waited for the inevitable.

The buildings, which resembled the iconic Star Cruisers of Calamari, were heavily shielded. The Mon Cala forces hunkered down underneath the protective bubble, and acted as a fortress. An impregnable one, in Imperial scuba-troopers and undersea speeders took heavy casualties hurling themselves against. This tactic forced the Empire to avoid a direct assault and adopt the tactic of sending ground forces underwater to take the city, corridor by corridor, and fight Calamari and Quarren troops for every inch.

Meanwhile, all across the planet, Mon Cala's underwater skyscrapers have been rapidly converted into space-faring ships, and have been trying to evacuate the planet for days now. Many ships managed to escape at the beginning. But ever since the world devastators arrived, the ships, many unarmed and packed with thousands of men, women, and children, were vaporized.

Colonel Ackbar's hologram appeared next to King Lee Char, who was deep in conversation with with Princess Leia.

"Your Majesty, our forces are holding their position. But the Imperial blockade is still in place, and the Republic fleet is having a difficult time breaking through, and we've lost all contact with the orbital forces. We can't continue to coordinate the evacuation."

"Ground all the transports. We can't risk evacuating anymore people until comms are reestablished with the surface."

The Colonel saluted, and his hologram disappeared.

"Hm, he's shaping up to be a fine leader." Leia said.

"Just like his father." Lee Char said. "Speaking of which, your brother, Luke Skywalker. He's shaping up to be a powerful Jedi. Just like Anakin Skywalker."

"Yes. You knew our father?" Leia asked.

"Of Course. The 'Hero with no fear'. He and several other Jedi led the Grand Army to Mon Cala and helped unite our people in our civil war, and drive the Separatists from our shores."

Leia smiled. But then it faded, when she realized that meant that Darth Vader was her real father. How would the galaxy react to Leia, if they ever found out that Leia was the son of the monster that tormented the galaxy for 20 years.

"Is, something wrong, Princess Leia?" King Lee-Char asked.

"Oh, uh nothing," she lied. "I'm just... I'm sorry that this had to happen to your people. You've been through so much. We should've been more prepared for the Empire."

"Don't blame yourself for this." The King placed a reassuring hand on Leia's shoulder. "Our people are resilient. And your people will find a way to beat this new threat. After all, is that not how you beat the Empire before?"

That's when one of the King's informants swam up to him. "Your Majesty. Colonel Ackbar and his scouts have made contact with remaining elements of the New Republic forces on the surface. They are planning an attack on one of the World Devastators."

"What?" Lee Char asked. "How does he plan to do that?"

"He answered by passing along a message from Captain Solo." He said, before handing it to Princess Leia, looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel.

She played the holo-recording.

'_Dear your worshipfulness. Got picked up by some crazy from Rogue Squadron. Gonna attack a City-Eater now. No time to discuss in comity. We'll just trust in the Force. Love, Han_."

Lee-Char and Leia just looked at the still-image of Han in stunned silence.

"Does this happen with him often?" The King asked.

Leia shook her head. "You have no idea."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Imperial World Devastator, Mon Cala's surface_.

All across the besieged planet of Mon Cala, the Empire's presence was felt. From the lowest depths of the oceans, to the mightiest of the surface cities. The latter of which was being swallowed whole by the Imperial War machines.

Onboard one of the World Devastators, An imperial officer, a woman with blonde hair, was speaking to a hologram of Admiral Klev, who was in orbit commanding the Blockade, and the siege.

"_Status report, Colonel Bergon_."

"We're making progress Admiral Klev. We're focusing our efforts on the northern hemisphere, and we're nearly done erasing the surface settlements. But the King appears to be focusing his efforts in the southern hemisphere, and around the capital city. And they appear to have grounded their reef-ships in the polar regions." Bergon said, clasping her hands behind her back. "I'd prefer not to divide my forces unnecessarily. After all, the Rebels still have a large amount of fighters and transports down here, and are still a threat. Once we have completed our efforts in the north, we'll move south and clean up the Mon Cala settlements, and destroy their evacuation transports."

"_Don't underestimate the Calamari. Their efforts may seem purely defensive in nature, but they likely have counterattack in mind_."

"I'm monitering the situation, Admiral. I have everything under-"

"Colonel!" One of the naval officers at their duty stations called out. "We have incoming!"

* * *

Outside, dozens of New Republic Starfighters came from the direction of the setting sun, flying an intercept course. At the head of this large formation was the crack pilots of Rogue Squadron.

"Alright pilots, keep in formation until I give the word." Tycho said. "Remember, we only have to keep them distracted."

As they flew closer and closer, little green lights flashed across the hull of the Devastator, and seconds later, green-black puffs of flak began to erupt around the fighters. They were shaken and jostled around. And some, well ... won't be making it back home to celebrate.

As they got closer, the Imperial gunnery improved - believe it or not - and more Republic pilots began to spin out of control and crash into the ocean below.

Then, as the Republic fighters got ever closer, the massive hanger doors opened below the Devastator opened, and swarms of TIE droids - recently constructed in the massive floating factories thanks to the ore their massive weapons collected - poured out of the massive ship, and headed straight for the Republic fighters.

"This is it. Fire torpedoes!"

On Captain Celchu's orders, over a hundreds flechette torpedoes flew towards the swarm of automated TIEs, detonating in the center of the formation, sending pellets of radioactive shrapnel into the fighters, filling them with burning holes and sheering off wings.

The formation was felled by a third, evening the odds quite a bit.

Tycho smiled.

"Alright, all units, fan out, and engage targets at will.

The two formations of Republic and Imperial fighters slammed into each other, causing a massive battle. And with the Imperial fighters distracted, it was time to begin the next phase of the plan.

Tycho activated his holo-pad, and contacted Colonel Ackbar, who's hologram sat atop an aquatic speeder, which resemble a flying fish. "Alright Colonel, you're up."

Aftab nodded before his hologram disappeared.

* * *

Below the massive battle in the sky, a formation of Mon Cala speeders broke through the surface and started flying towards the World Devastator.

"Form up on me," Aftab called out to his warriors. "For the King! For Mon Cala!"

* * *

Colonel Bergon stood at the viewport and watched two dozen speeders fly towards her ship.

An officer ran up to her. "Ma'am, sensors have indicated that Colonel Aftab Ackbar is leading that formation of attack craft."

"That idiot is joining the battle _himself?_" The Colonel asked before she chuckled. "What does he think he'll prove? Divert some of our TIEs and cannons. He won't get anywhere near us."

* * *

Aftab's strike force continued to speed towards the devastator. But then, several TIE droids began to fly towards them, and several of the Devastator's point-defense cannons started to traverse towards them.

Several trails of green laser-fire started to head towards them.

"Dive! Dive!"

On Aftab's orders, the aqua-speeders began to dive back into the water. But three weren't quick enough, and were vaporized on impact.

"Colonel Ackbar! They'll pick us off one by one. We need to finish this attack and get out of here!" One of the warriors panicked.

"No! We have to get closer. If we launch before we get inside their Point-Defense perimeter, then this will all be for nothing!"

Aftab looked at the readout on his display. It showed a large orange square, and a collection of yellow dots. The square representing the devastator, and the dots Ackbar and his men.

"Closer... closer ... NOW!"

Every speeder flew up directly underneath the devastator, and into a hail of turbo-laser fire from the strafing TIE droids, which destroyed several more speeders. But they couldn't stop the Calamari now. They each unleashed a pair of projectiles, which popped open to unleash many more tiny missile pods.

When the speeders went back into the water, the missiles headed straight for the open tractor beam section.

* * *

Colonel Bergon grabbed an officer by his shoulder and forced him to turn back in his seat.

"Their missiles have penetrated our lower hull!" Bergon said as she angrily pointed out the bridge viewport. "Shoot them down!"

The officer had a worried look on his face, as if he was afraid to answer. "There's too many for our targeting systems to handle!"

"No!" She shouted before the missiles flew right through the open hull, and right into the factories inside the ship, causing a powerful explosion that deactivated the engines, effectively crippling the ship.

It eventually veered off course and crash-landed into a nearby island-chain.

* * *

With the TIE droids distracted, and the Devastator crippled, now was the perfect time for the legendary Millennium Falcon to emerge from the waves with a flight of U-Wings transports, and join the fight.

Droplets of water fell from the Falcon, the small water particles catching the setting sun, giving the Falcon a twinkling, and majestic appearance.

But Han didn't see it that way.

"The next time someone tells me to hide the Falcon in salt water, remind me to ignore them," he said grumpily.

Chewbacca just started to give his Wookiee chuckle, as they flew in tight formation with the other transports.

"_Alright, ground units. You are clear to proceed. Get inside and see what makes those monster tick_."

"Roger Rogue lead, Han said. On final approach for enemy warship."

He pointed at the ship. I'm gonna take us down by that patch of land. Get the landing gear ready.

Chewie gave a bark of affirmation.

When the transports landed, they lowered their ramps, and Republic commandoes stormed onto the beach with their weapons ready. Squeezing through the cracks made in the ship's hull on impact, the commandoes vaulted over ramparts and ducked under debris, before running into their first real obstacle.

Stormtroopers.

The Imperial Army and Navy's elite troopers, and the ultimate symbol of Imperial power. They opened fire on the commandoes, killing a couple of them, and forcing the rest to take cover.

A firefight ensued.

"This is Echo Team. We're under heavy fire, and taking casualties. Imperial Stormtroopers are dug in."

That's when a powerful laser blast flew over the commando's head, blasting several pieces of cover apart, along with the Imperial troops using them.

The lead commando looked behind him to see a smoking Wookiee Bowcaster being yielded by a hero of Yavin.

"Don't worry boys. Cavalry's here." Han said.

Chewie let out a mighty roar that weakened the will of many Stormtroopers - likely fresh-faced conscripts - who fled in terror.

Han and Chewie charged down the corridor, followed by several commandoes, and they started to gun down any trooper that so much as stepped into their path. Bodies started flying as explosions erupted from their weaponry, and this all kept happening until they reached the bridge.

* * *

Colonel Bergon stood above her men and continued to call out orders.

"Start shutting down all major systems, and prepare scuttling charges. We can't allow the rebels to seize control of this ship."

That's when her com-link went off.

"What is it?"

"_Ma'am, the rebels are heading for the bridge." A Stormtrooper informed. "They're just tearing through us. Oh scray-!_" He said, before the call cut to static.

Bergon turned to her men, gave a pair of hand signals, ordering her officers and troopers to take up defensive positions. The door to the bridge was sealed. But a laser cutter started to burn around it. Sweat began to form under her uniform collar, and some of the troopers rifles started to shake with their hands. And when the door was finally cut through, every Imperial in the room opened fire, demolishing the door before it could be kicked down.

But none of them noticed the pair of flashbang detonators through into the room until it was too late.

Everything went white, and everyone's hearing was replaced with a piercing ringing noise.

When Bergon finally regained her eyesight, she was able to make out the bodies of stormtroopers that littered the deck, and the hairy beast that restrained her with a bear hug.

She tried to struggle in the wookiee's iron grip, but to no avail.

"It's no use colonel." Said the scoundrel that pointed a DL-44 blaster pistol in her face. "This tug's under new management."

The colonel was then put next to her surviving crew in binders, and under the watchful eye of two Republic commandoes.

Han then went over to one of the Republic technicians, who was hacking into the computer terminal, trying to find a weakness in the enemy devastators.

"Any luck?" Han asked.

The technician shook his head. "I can't seem to be able to access the ship's schematics. But I am picking up a signal that's controlling each of the Devastators."

"Great. We just need to track it, and then we'll be able to shut down the ships and save Mon Cala." Han said, enthusiastically. Then he winced when he realized that he was starting to sound like Luke instead of his old pessimistic self.

"Yeaahhh, just one problem sir." The technician said.

"And what's that?" Han asked.

The trooper looked at Han. "The signal's not coming from anywhere on Mon Cala. It's coming from the unknown regions."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Mon Cala's orbit_.

_High up in the planet's orbit, the Imperials were continuing to tighten their hold over the planet. Imperial Star Destroyers and massive Golan-I defense platforms formed a tight net over the planet, not allowing anything to get in or out._

_They also periodically bombarded the surface, wiping out settlements or pockets of resistance that the World Devastators missed._

_It was also from the Defense towers that Imperial troops were deployed to the surface to conduct surface operations._

_But if there was one threat they were truly concerned about, it was Admiral Ackbar, and the sizable portion of the New Republic fleet that had caused them so many problems. Every now and then, Ackbar would send fighter squadrons to probe the blockade's defenses, and launch precision strikes._

_But the Imperials had a plan to draw Ackbar's fleet into a decisive battle. A trio of Star Destroyers hovered over the planet, conducting a search-and-destroy mission. They would concentrate their combined firepower on a single underwater settlement, and wipe it out in one fell swoop. They would even target unarmed civilian transports and shoot them down._

_When this happened, Ackbar sent a large portion of his fleet to attack weak points in the Imperial Blockade, using Capital ships to hammer the Imperial battle line, and sending dozens of fighters and bombers to swoop in between the enemy ships, and cause chaos._

_A flight of B-Wings flew over one of the Golan-I siege platforms and targeted the critical systems, causing a chain reaction that ripped the station apart._

_But in response, the Empire would send several World Devastators to bolster the blockade and drive back Ackbar's forces._

_It was becoming clear that, despite Ackbar's best efforts, the Republic fleet wasn't going to be able to break the blockade. Not with those monsters tearing apart his planet, and his ships._

_But on the other side of the galaxy, another task force of Republic ships was on its way to fix that problem._

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_RSD Liberator, Unknown Regions_.

A captured, formerly Imperial, Star-Destroyer moved slowly towards the massive uncharted planet below, surrounded by a massive field of asteroids.

On the bridge, Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and recently promoted General, was standing motionless on the bridge, hands folded behind him, a faint frown painting his brow. Beside him, mag-locked to the deck, waiting with electronic patience, stood an R2-droid series model.

Luke was trying to reach out with the Force for the entire journey. Trying to get in touch with his sister. But every time he tried to reach out, all he got was echoes, as if he was trying to call out in a vast emptiness, and no one could answer back. It was like his connection to the Leia was being blocked by a dark presence.

But by who or what he couldn't say. Although, he could've sworn that he heard whispers.

However, that would have to wait.

Outside the ship, Rogue Squadron, and the fleet's X- and B-wing groups, was mopping up whatever was left of the TIE fighter squadrons that opposed them, as the Liberator pushed deeper into the system. On the planet below, Y-Wings made devastating bombing runs on the Imperial installations below.

He decided to walk back towards the command center, where Lando and Kalback were standing over a holo-map of the battle around them.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, General Skywalker," Kalback said.

"It's not over yet, Admiral," Luke said, before he turned to one of the ensigns. "Launch probes."

One of the crewmen nodded, pressed a few buttons, and several probe droids began to fly around the planet, recording the surface and sending the feed back to the ship.

Luke then had R2-D2 plug in, and pull up an image of the uncharted world below, with its rolling grasslands, thick jungles, and sparkling oceans, and the white-sandy beaches. He also saw the Imperial installations that were devastated by the bombing runs.

"When was the last time an operation was this easy? And in uncharted space of all places."

Lando, Kalback, and Commander Rex all looked at each other.

"What are you trying to say, Luke?" Lando asked.

"I'm saying that we might be walking into a trap."

"Ha!" Kalback laughed. "I think you're overreacting, '_Master_' Jedi. There aren't any other Imperial forces in the system. We've dealt with all of them."

Luke then had Artoo bring up an image of the origin of the Signal, controlling the World Devastators on Mon Cala. "Then why would they such an important asset unprotected?"

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" One of the officers called out.

Suddenly, a powerful laser blast coming from the surface of the planet whipped through the Liberator's shield without resistance, and through the ship's armor, hull, and internal structure.

And the ship just . . . went dead in the water.

* * *

_Imperial Stealth Ship_.

Lord Starkiller watched from the bridge of his personal stealth ship, as the Star Destroyer belonging to Luke Skywalker started to break up in the atmosphere of the planet below.

Each chunk that broke away from the ship became a meteorite as it shot towards the surface.

Very few escape pods managed to jettison from the burning hulk.

"My Lord, we've done it. We've destroyed their rapid response fleet. Their best troops and pilots will soon be dealt with."

But Starkiller continued to stoically watch the wreckage burn up in the atmosphere.

"The rebellion's 'best troops' do not concern me. The only thing that matters is Skywalker. Track that flaming junk's descent. I want the Jedi dead."

The officer nodded and turned back to his station, while Starkiller continued to stare out the viewport.

* * *

_RSD Liberator_.

General Skywalker looked around the now demolished bridge and the carnage that the Imperial ambush left. Half the bridge crew lay dead or dying, and the rest were frantically trying to keep the ship together.

Commander Rex was directing the medical personnel to their stations, and Lando was caring for a mortally wounded Admiral Kalback, who had a metal spike driven through his torso.

He had been standing behind the helmsmen, who were both dead. Slumped over their control consoles.

The admiral had a piece of shrapnel impaling his abdomen, and he laid in a pool of his own blood.

Luke knelt down next to him and began to use the force to help make the injury hurt less. But he knew it was too late. But so did the Admiral. "Skywalker . . ." he said, before coughing up blood.

Luke, with a look of concern, glanced up at Lando, before looking back down at the Admiral. "Don't worry Kalback. I'm going to help you."

"No you're not." He said before he grabbed luke's tunic with his bloody fingers. "Look hotshot, I know we haven't seen eye to eye recently, but let me be clear. This entire Republic is going to be slagged if we don't stop this Grand Admiral and his doomsday devices. If you want to impress even me kid, then I want two things from you: Stop the Imperials, and get..." the Admiral said before coughing up more blood, before gasping for more breath for what might very well be his last sentence, "and get my men home."

He then collapsed in Lando and Luke's arms, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Luke shook his head and then shut the Admiral's lifeless eyes.

He then stood up to observe a distraught crew that was looking to him now.

"I want a status report on the ship's systems." Luke said.

Artoo plugged in and brought up a hologram of the ship, while a female crew member went to point to the ship.

"Most of our weapons are offline. The hyperdrive's been disabled. We're venting atmosphere in multiple sections. No word yet from the medbay on the casualty numbers."

Luke studied the ship.

But before he could say anything, a message cut through on the ship's comm systems.

"_Liberator, come in. Liberator?! Is anyone there? This is Rogue Leader. More Imperial forces are pouring into the system. We're holding them off as best we can. What is our objective?_"

"Orders, General?" Rex asked Luke.

Luke looked to the crew. "We still need to get to the surface and take out that signal. Get everyone to the transports, and tell the crew to abandon ship."

"Sir, I'm afraid all the escape pod bays have been destroyed." The female crew member said.

Luke shook his head, before he went to the helm, where he pulled the two dead pilots out.

"What are you doing?" Lando asked, terrified of the answer he was about to receive.

"Getting to the surface the old fashioned way," Luke said as he grabbed the controls.

One of the crewmen leaned over to Rex. "He can't be serious." He said as the vibration of the ship's overtaxed engines was felt beneath him.

"He's serious kid." He smiled, thinking of the original General Skywalker. "You might want to brace yourselves."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Well folks, that was part 7.**

**Hope you enjoyed. I'll try to get part 8 up as soon as possible.**

**Until then, Grubkiller out.**


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